The Legend of Ajira
by Madame Ergoth
Summary: *ON HIATUS* A young Khajiit is kidnapped, and wakes up in Zainab Ashlander Camp. She discovers she is the subject of an ancient prophecy, and that she must begin working immediately. She finds dangerous magic, secrets, adventure, and forbidden love.
1. Zenith Tyrelin

The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 1: Zenith Terylin

Authors Note: I was always intrigued by the Khajiit named Ajira in the Balmora Mages Guild, so I wrote a fic about her life, her childhood and her future. The story is set 100 years after Dagoth Ur was defeated, and Ajira's story is being told to a young Khajiit. In the future, by the way, Ajira is something of a legend. You'll soon find out why! And as always I do not own Morrowind, Ajira, or any other characters, places, or ideas. Peace!

Zenith sat in her hammock, resting, on the 1st day of Frostfall. The heavy frost had finally released its grasp on the trees and houses, and as the name of the month suggested, frost was falling everywhere and drenching the ground, making it sodden and wet once more, just after it had finally dried after the long and harsh winter. Zenith was young, even for a Khajiit. She was 10 in human years, but only 3 in Khajiit years. Khajiit age much slower than humans, and though they generally live much longer than humans, they usually only get to be around 30 Khajiit years old before passing away.

Zenith had a long, furry face covered with auburn hair. She had black spots here and there, particularly around her long, pointed ears. She never wore much, save a simple common shirt and pants. Her parents, Riyleen and Mar Terylin were Khajiit thieves; in fact, they were quite famous (or infamous, it depended on whose point of view you were looking from). They were wanted all across Tamriel, yet they had swiftly and easily escaped capture for 15 years. Zenith was not proud of who her parents were, but she was thankful. They provided her with whatever they could make off with, be it a new shirt, some food, or even a small knife or dagger. It was never much, but Zenith had learned to accept that. They lived off the streets, and in homes of the kind and caring, mostly of the homes that were way out in the backcountry, and the people there had no idea of her and her parents reputation. She traveled with her parents, following quietly wherever they went, sleeping with one eye open to watch for attackers. Life on the streets had made Zenith tough, durable, and (strangely) unwaveringly obedient.

She cared not for the Empire that all the Imperials and Redguards were so loyal to. After all, she had heard that the current King, Ulvaras Bwyn II, was in bad health once again with a nasty bout of some new disease. The healers, doctors, and even the medicine man were completely baffled. He had strange and unusual symptoms, and the more the healers tried to cure him the worse he became. "After all," said Zenith again, "Who wants to live under a king that's going to die anyway?" As an afterthought, Zenith added, "Who wants to live under a king anyway?" Realizing she was speaking to the wall, Zenith sighed loudly, and stood up, stretching her long legs and purring with delight at the pleasant tingling sensation it always gave her. She walked out the cloth door and sat around the dancing fire outside, her parents were seated alongside her, one on each side.

Her father, Mar, looked at her with his long slanted eyes. They glowed an unpleasant shade of green, but Zenith felt it rude to look away. Her mother stared at her as well. Zenith shifted in her seat, feeling very uncomfortable. They only did this when they had something important to tell her, like announced another big move, or that they were going out on an extended mission. Her father started to speak. "Zenith..." he said slowly, "There is someone we need to tell you about." Zenith looked confused, and Mar went on, "Her name...is Ajira, and she lived quite a long time ago, before you or I were ever born...And...we feel...it is best..." Zenith's mother cut in because apparently, Mar just could not find the right words to say.

"What we're saying, honey," said Riyleen, Zenith's mother, "Is that there come a time in every Khajiit's life that she needs to learn the great story of Ajira--"

"Who's Ajira?" asked Zenith innocently.

Riyleen and Mar looked at each other with disbelieving faces. "Zen, darling, Ajira was a Khajiit, just like us. She did many things to help our people grow to what we are today. Long ago, in the time of Dagoth Ur -- May the gods help you if you don't know about him -- we Khajiits -- nearly all of us -- were enslaved --"

"Enslaved!"

"--to those wretched Imperials! They had us working the fields, like Argonians! And I've heard they had to wear these horrible magic bracers. If you tried to run away, it would cast Elemental Burst on you!"

"How terrible!"

"But, now, dear..." Riyleen calmed down a bit, her voice trailing off slightly, "The story of Ajira. It all started one hundred or some years ago..."


	2. Ajira Swhen

The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 2: Ajira Swhen

Authors Note: This chapter is set many years back, to when the day Ajira Swhen was first born. Ajira's parents are Estella and Darq Swhen, her father Darq a talented warrior, and her mother Estella a gifted mage. Let's see how the story begins...

The barren Ashlands, covered infinitely with dry soil, stretched as far and wide as the eye could see. All was quiet, except for the distant screams of Cliff Racers, and the rustle of the dry wind as it blew relentlessly over the arid landscape, stirring the loose sand, carrying it across the Ashlands in the wind, and settling it, at least until the next time. But yet...something was happening, the wind carried news of it in the air. The few residents of the Ashlands could feel that something was going on, but no one could identify what it was. Far off across the Ashlander plains, something was happening that would one day change Morrowind forever.

"Look at her, Stella," Darq Swhen cooed, cradling a tiny Khajiit babe in his furry arms. He stroked the baby's head lovingly. "Isn't she beautiful?" The Khajiit child was small, and had her mother warm face, but her father's long pointed ears. She giggled softly, and hiccupped. A tall woman Khajiit with bright eyes and a soft, graceful face looked down on her child. She grinned broadly, glowing in the thought that she was now a mother.

"What shall we name her, Darq?" She looked at her husband, who was cradling the baby. Darq stayed silent for a moment, and slowly lifted his head to the sky. Khajiits are very fond of night, and they know all the lore of the stars and the heavens. The moon is their symbol, in fact, the two parents both had a silver glistening moon emblazoned across their forehead, as a sort of birthmark. The new child did not have one yet, but the stars had told Estella that one would appear when she was ready. Darq searched the heavens for the perfect star, the perfect constellation to name his beautiful daughter after. A sharp, pulsating one caught his eye. It was right above the horizon, and glowing strangely with green light. At once, he recognized the constellation it came from: Ajira, the queen mother of all living things in Khajiit lore, the goddess of nature and of healing. Darq Swhen smiled, his eyes twinkling excitedly. He looked at Stella, smiled, and said, "Ajira. We shall name her Ajira."

"Mommy, mommy! Get up!" A young female Khajiit yelled and shook her moms hammock frantically. A muffled groan came from under the blanket. "Mommy!" she yelled with as much energy as ever. "Don't you remember? It's my birthday today!" A huge furry lump rolled out of the hammock, and landed with a _shump! _on the dirt floor of their hut.

"Ajira..." it moaned, "couldn't you wait until it was at least daylight?"

Ajira laughed. "No, no! I wannit to be my birthday right now!"

"Of course it is, honey." The lump was found to be Ajira's mother, and she was still half-asleep, because she kept mumbling incoherently with her eyes closed.

Ajira's father, Darq, entered the hut, sheathing his long claymore and carrying a small dead guar in the other.

"Ohhhh..." cooed Stella, eyeing the dead guar, "It looks like it was only a baby."

"Yes, but at least we will have some good meat now," He eyed the corpse hungrily.

"Couldn't you have just picked some berries or roots?" Stella protested, "They're edible too!"

"That sissy stuff will never put any meat on your bones! What you need is meat!" He plopped the dead guar on the table.

Ajira just stood there, quietly watching the argument.

The row continued to rage on, so Ajira stepped outside to get away from the fighting and to have a bit of fresh air.

She sighed and looked around outside her hut. The three moons glowed brightly in the night sky, and the stars all twinkled with magical light. A warm fire was glowing in the yard. Ajira sat beside it, warming her paws and listening to the screaming going on in her parents house. She was used to it by now. Darq and Stella were never really meant to be, it seemed. They were just too different from each other. Yes, they had loved at first, but now it was all quarreling and bickering over the simplest things, and it happened all the time.

Estella was a mage, and a very gifted one at that. She was born into the Balmora Temple, but was apprenticed to the magical arts at a very young age. Nelani Githne had been her instructor, and her Temple beliefs mixed with her magical learning had decided that it was wrong to kill or harm anything, even just for food. Therefore, she was very skinny, and lived on a diet of edible plants and berries.

Darq, on the other hand, was born into the Fighter's Guild, and was trained from birth as a warrior. Though he did not like to kill, he understood it was sometimes necessary, so he had no problem hunting for food.

There seemed to be a lull in the fighting, everything had gone silent inside the hut. Ajira looked at the door. She heard the rustle of movement, and a short muffled groan. "What's going on in there?" Ajira called into the house. "Everything all right?"

She stepped through the cloth door.

Suddenly, a gloved hand wrapped around her neck and covered her mouth. She tried to scream, but no words came out. "Shut your mouth, n'wah!" A cruel voice came from behind her. Ajira frantically looked around and spotted two wriggling burlap sacks in the corner. That could only be her parents. She desperately tried to wriggle away, but the elf's hold on her was powerful. Feeling a striking blow to her head, she moaned, sunk to the ground, and saw no more.


	3. Life with the Zainab

The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 3: Life with the Zainab

Ajira woke to the sound of drum. Slow and rhythmic, they calmed her and made her want to fall asleep again. She looked around groggily. She was no longer in her hut. Where was she? She saw a lot of little tents scattered everywhere, Best she could tell, she was still in the Ashlands.

The face of a Dark Elf looked down upon her. He had the characteristic red eyes of the Dunmer and a weird tattoo slathered across his cold grey skin. "Get up, sera," he said. Ajira slowly got up onto her feet, realizing that she was extremely sore. "What happened?" she asked, still looking around at her new and different surroundings.

"That doesn't matter right now," said the dark elf in his deep voice. "You will know when the time is right."

"What do you mean?" pleaded Ajira. "Where am I? Where's my parents?"

"Come with me," was all the dark elf said.

She was led across the camp into a particularly large yurt. "Inside," said the elf, gesturing into the tent. Ajira reluctantly stepped through the cloth door. Another dark elf was seated inside, bearing the same face markings as the other elf. He had a long, jagged scar running down his face. _Probably from battle_, thought Ajira silently.

"Good evening," said the elf, bowing to her politely, "and welcome to Zainab Camp. You may've heard. We are the nomadic Dunmer people of the Ashlands. There are several other Ashlander tribes, but we have nothing to do with them. My name is Falyron Byx, and I am the Ashkhan, or leader, of this Ashlander tribe. If you have any questions, please direct them to me."

Ajira had a good deal of questions, but she was afraid and confused. She was afraid to ask this frightening elf anything, and she was so confused about what was going on. Quietly she murmured, "Where's my parents, sir?"

"Ah, Estella and Darq. Never fear, they are safe here in camp, and you may see them later. Let me assure you, no harm will come to them whilst they are here. And let me apologize...Ajira, is it? For breaking into your house like that and kidnapping you. You must be terribly frightened."

Ajira was, in truth, very frightened, but she was not going to tell this "Ashkhan", as he called himself.

"You have to understand that we took you for a very good reason. It may not be known to you, but rest assured, we did not take you hostage out of pure spite. When the right time comes, you will know. For now, however, you will be living with us. You are free to trek across the country as you wish, so long as you can always come back here before sundown. Understood?"

Ajira nodded numbly. It was taking her a while to digest all of this information.

"By the way, you and your parents' hut is the third on the left. You are dismissed."

Ajira nodded and bowed to him, then stepped out of the cloth door in a daze. She had heard of the Ashlander peoples, but she had never thought that she would be taken hostage by them. She counted down the tents three to the left and found hers. It was particularly small compared to many of the other yurts, but she was thankful to have one at all.

She stepped inside and was met with lavish hugs and apologies by her two parents, clearly overjoyed to see her again. "Are you OK?" asked Stella, brushing dirt off her daughters clothes.

"Yes, mom, I'm fine."

"What did they do to you?" asked Darq.

"Nothing, they just told me we'd be staying here for a while. I'm...really tired. I need to go to bed." Ajira felt nothing like discussing this with her parents. Not now. Maybe not ever. She crawled into a cramped hammock and tried to fall asleep. But too many questions were buzzing around in her mind to sleep, even a little.

_When you are ready...when the time is right..._Everyone kept keeping all the answers from her. She couldn't get any information about why she was here or what she was supposed to be doing. No one would tell her anything until "the time was right". When would the time be right? Three days? Three years? She wished that everyone would stop treating her like a baby. Ajira knew in her heart that she was still very young, but she felt that she had the right to know why she had been taken hostage by the strange Ashlanders. What did they want with her? Ajira groaned, half-asleep, and wished silently in her head that she was back home, in her comfy hut on the edge of the Ashlander plains. Sure, she was free to travel around, but she would be bound to this place forever. There was no sense in trying to escape; the Ashlanders were the best trackers around.

Finally, Ajira rolled over on her lumpy pillow and fell into an uncomfortable but well-deserved sleep.


	4. The Prophecy

The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 4: The Prophecy

Ajira woke the next morning quite uncomfortably. The ropes of the hammock were rough and had made her back painfully sore. Her head was throbbing from the heat of the morning sun, and her paws ached like the devil.

Rubbing her head, Ajira got up from her hammock walked to her parents' beds. They were already empty, so Ajira figured that they must already be awake, either out getting some breakfast (she didn't know quite what they had agreed on in terms of food). She stepped out the door and into the baking morning sun. She had to shield her eyes with her paw because the glare from the sun was shining right on her face. In a particularly large yurt, smoke billowed from a hole in the top and Ajira assumed they must be having a communal breakfast.

She walked into the yurt and seated beside several other Dark Elves, who gave her a menacing look as she sat down. A crackling fire was in the center, and a cast iron pot was hung over it. A pleasant aroma that smelled of crab meat wafted throughout the tent, flirting with the nostrils of the hungry Ashlanders. A loud _GONG! _was heard, reverberating off the walls and filling the hall with sound. "Breakfast is served," a voice called out in a deep accent.

Globs of food flew out of the cauldron and plopped themselves on the newly appeared plates before them. Ajira could only stare in awe. Her mother was quite skilled at magic, but she had never seen anything like this. Nonetheless, she picked up the food, which turned out to be fresh crab, sniffed it a bit, and started to eat. It was delicious, wholesome, and filling. The plate seemed to know when she was full, because just when she thought she couldn't eat another bite, the plate and the food dissolved with a _hiss_ into the floor.

Ajira thought again about her parents, and where they might be. She sighed glumly, wishing her parents were around to enjoy this excellent meal with her. Ajira was used to taking care of herself, however. Oftentimes both Estella and Darq would be out, Stella usually with the Mages Guild, and Darq usually off hunting, so Ajira was quite used to staying by herself, and had learned to trust in that they would always come back, wherever they were. She just wished she knew what they were doing. Nearly the whole tribe, (or so it looked), had come to breakfast, and her parents had just...disappeared.

Ajira sighed again. It was becoming quite regular. She missed her hut, and she missed her family. Sadly, slowly, she walked back to her hut, opened the door and stepped inside.

Hours flew by, but Ajira didn't seem to care. She rocked back and forth in her hammock, incredibly bored. She rocked and stared at the roof, rocked and stared, rocked and stared. After when seemed an eternity, Ajira heard muffled voices outside her door. She crept closer to see if she could hear.

"--she's not old enough to know yet. By not telling her, we are protecting her..."

"No, you're all wrong! She may be young, but she needs to know her destiny--"

"That would ruin her childhood for her, bearing the burden of something like that. You...haven't told her about the prophecy, have you?"

"No, but only because the Ashkhan wishes to keep this hushed up. If it was my choice, I would tell her the moment she got here. Just think how you'd feel! She's been taken away from her home! She's being held hostage here! And for what? Nothing, since we can't even tell her what's going on! She's just staying here, and has no idea why we took her, or why she needs to stay with us!--"

"Arthyn--"

The sound of heavy stomping footsteps went to the right of her and she heard some more indistinguishable curses. Ajira Swhen moaned softly, leaned against the wall of the tent, and wept.


	5. The Warrior and the Mage

The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 5: The Warrior and the Mage

"Does she know where we've gone?" asked Darq nervously to Stella. A silvery orb of smoke was glowing and shivering between Stella's hands. It looked cold, but the air around it was warm with magic. She was gazing into it intently, as though it was trying to tell her something.

Darq frowned. He had never been able to see anything in that orb of hers. He guessed it was a mage's gift, and that only they could see what lie beyond. He supposed it was one of those Forbidden Powers, something that a mage had learned that they had to swear not to share. Sharing a Forbidden Power was like sharing intelligence from the FBI, and sharing a Forbidden Power with a non-relative was even worse. Stella had taken the sacred oath the day she graduated from the Magical Academy; she knew the punishment: permanent revocation of her powers. But after she had taken the oath, she was then allowed to share all of her magical knowledge, save the Forbidden Powers, with any member of her family.

As Ajira grew, in fact, Estella had shared many of her books with her, and informally trained her in the First Magical Art, Alteration. The Art of Alteration included simple spells and charms such as Levitation, Water Walking, and Shield. Stella was surprised as she began to train her daughter; she showed an unusual talent for Alteration. Her Shield charms were exceptional.

As Stella stared into her Seeing Orb, Darq began to gather firewood. It was nearly nightfall; the sun was beginning to set and he could just begin to see the outlines of the moons over the horizon. It would be cold soon, and they would need warmth.

Finally, Stella looked up from her Seeing Orb, her eyes wild with fear. "What did you see?" whispered Darq. He had returned from gathering firewood, laying several large twigs and sticks in an arranged pile over in a good flat area.

Stella sniffled, looking up at Darq with her huge eyes. "She's...crying," she said softly. "Do you think she misses us?"

There was a short hesitation, but "no," said Darq, lying a comforting hand on her furry shoulder. He looked into her eyes; something he knew always calmed her. "She's used to us being gone. That can't be the reason. Besides, she can take care of herself. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"But what if she's not? What if something's really wrong?" Estella spoke in a shaky voice, on the brink of crying. "It...It was those idiots, Arthyn and Marx."

"Who?" asked Darq quietly.

"They were standing right outside her tent, just standing there, talking about the prophecy! They had that set up, I'm sure of it...!" Stella was breathing heavily, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

There was a long moment of slow sadness. Darq closed his eyes, sighed. Everything was ruined. In a solemn voice he said, "So she knows."

Stella took a deep breath. "No, not yet anyway. Those fools were out there arguing over whether to tell her or not."

"That is so stupid! Why would they do that!"

"One of them wanted to tell Ajira about the Prophecy, another wanted to keep it from her."

"So what do you think?" Darq sighed. There was no turning back now.

"I'm with Arthyn on this one. If we hadn't been sworn to secrecy, I would tell her everything." She looked at Darq with a pleading face. He replied with a slow sad kiss, wishing he could change what happened. As they broke off, Darq was the one with the mournful face.

"It would break her heart..." said Darq slowly. "But you're right, she needs to know."

"It just tears me apart that we can't tell her."

"I know, honey. Me too." He drew her close and they stayed there, clinging to each other, each feeling the other's worry and dismay. There was nothing to do to change the past. There were cases of Time Travel, but they had strong, usually negative effects on the time stream. Even Estella Swhen, one of the greatest Mages of her time, was not authorized for that High Magic. It was a power limited to the Gods and Immortals of the heavens.

"I should start the fire. It's getting colder." He was correct. The sun had almost completely set, and a blanket of cold darkness now covered the land.

Breaking apart from his wife, he made his way over to the pile of wood he had collected earlier. He began to dig through the dust with a stick, looking for a stray rock. He found a large black stone after not much searching. He picked it up, tossing it around, testing it. "This'll do," he called over to Stella, who was watching him. "Come on, I'm getting cold."

Stella pointed one finger at the stone. A small spark appeared at her fingertip. At the same time, that spark shot across the air to the stone, which ignited immediately into a blazing stone of green flame. Darq did not appear to be burned by it, seeing that Khajiits have a certain resistance to fire, especially magical fire. He dropped the flaming stone on the pile of sticks, which slowly started to catch, forming a glowing green fire. The air around the fire was growing warm, not only from the fire, but also from the natural heat of magic.

They settled around the fire for the night. Darq put his arm around Stella, and they sat there, admiring the stars and being warmed by the flames. It was completely dark now, except for the light from the fire and the feeble moonlight of the three moons: Luciduan, Auclid, and Ebyrea. Luciduan was the largest by far, and glowed a dull yellow color. Auclid was second in size, and it shone a dark blue color. Ebyrea was the smallest of the moons, but it was the brightest, glowing a bright red. In the morning, they would clean up their site, and continue on their way. It was turning out to be a beautiful night.

Suddenly, Darq's extra-sensitive ears perked up. He laid a hand on Stella's. "Quiet," he hissed. "I hear someone." There was a long, eerie silence as they tried to remain utterly still. The only sounds that could be heard were the crackling of their fire, and they prayed it wouldn't give them away.

After what seemed an eternity, there was a rustle of movement in the bush behind them. Stella and Darq both gasped. There _was_ someone (or something) out to get them!

Darq spun around, adopting his best fighting stance, sword drawn. Stella, with her hands apart and fingers spread, was ready with a spell. They both stared at the bush intently, waiting for something to spring at them.

The rustle came again. As the silence deepened, so did the intensity and their anxiety. A roar rung through the night, an ethereal howl that chilled their bones. "It's coming," whispered Darq, grabbing Stella's hand. "Be ready."

"What is _it_?" Estella was almost afraid to ask. Anything could be behind that bush, and death could be lurking right around the corner. There was nothing to do but be ready for it.

"Just be quiet. And follow me." Darq began to sneak toward the bush, his sword drawn.

Estella held her breath, sneaking after Darq. As they drew nearer, she saw Darq raise his sword high above his head, ready to strike. Stella's heart was beating faster now; she had never used magic for battle. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, exhilarating her. Purple light began to glow at her fingertips. Darq continued slow, deliberate steps toward the rustling bush. He let out a roar, and brought his sword crashing down. The air whistled around him as his sword fell, and it caught only bush. "Damn," whispered Darq. "Missed him."

Suddenly, Darq felt a cold pain in his back, raging up his spine. He was being attacked from behind! Darq screamed, whipping around. He could see his attacker properly now. He looked like a member of the Zainab tribe, as he had grey Dunmer skin. He had several jagged scars along his slender body, showing that he had been in battle before. He had glowing red eyes and a menacing scowl on his face. He pointed a Daedric longsword threateningly at him, his breath coming in deep grunts. "Stay away from here!" he yelled, striking out again.

Stella leaped in front of Darq just in time to cast her best Shield charm. A shimmering pink bubble formed around her. Stella knew that fighting was not right and she despised it wholly, but this was life-and-death. She and her husband both could very well be killed tonight. Spreading her hands again, she prepared to cast Fire, a spell from the Art of Destruction. While in training, Estella had never thought she would find a use for any spell in the Art of Destruction, but now she was fighting for her and Darq's life.

"NO!" yelled Darq, pushing Stella out of the way. "This is my battle. This bastard's mine!" Stella hit the ground hard, sliding through the dust. Her Fire spell was misdirected when Darq had pushed her, and it hit the bush nearby.

"Damn," whispered Stella, watching the bush catch fire. She quickly directed a jet of water at the flaming bush, hearing a sizzling sound as it was extinguished. Smoke plumed into the sky, obscuring her view of Darq. "Darq!" she screamed. "Darq!"

There came no answer. Coughing, pawing herself through the smoke, she tried desperately to see what was going on. She Conjured up a bow and notched a glass arrow to it, slowly advancing through the smoke.

Stella heard a scream. She couldn't discern whose it was. Stepping faster now through the gloom, feeling her eyes burning with the smoke, adrenaline rushing through her veins, she had the bow drawn, ready to strike. Straining her ears, she heard a sword whoosh through the air, and a desperate scream. The clash of metal on metal, and then...silence.

Stella was at a run now, still squinting through the night air. Suddenly she tripped, flying through the air, not having time to think or act before she crashed onto the cold dusty ground. Coughing, she struggled to her feet. "Light," she said, and her paws began to glow. She felt her Magicka drained with every step, making her more and more weary. At least she could see properly now.

Seconds later, she wished her vision was still obscured.

"Darq," she said softly, seeing him sprawled out on the ground. Blood was oozing from various wounds on his body, and his clothes were soaked and dirty. His sword lay on the ground next to him, a few inches from his hand.

She dropped to her knees on the ground next to him, caressing his tired and bloody face. "What happened?" she asked him.

Darq groaned, driblets of blood oozing from his mouth. "I...don't know. I just wasn't myself...I felt so heavy..."

Stella leaned closer over him, sniffing at his wounds. "Magic," she said simply. "Your attacker was a mage."

"What?" asked Darq, delirious. "I saw him carry a sword..." He groaned again, slipping out of consciousness.

"He was both then!" She sniffed him again. "Burden." she whispered, and gave him a hug. "It'll be all right, hang on, stay with me..."

Darq's breathing slowed, his eyelids fluttering. "No, baby, don't leave me. Come on now, wake up." She gave him a gentle slap in the face.

"Don't leave me now." She leaned over his limp body and wept.


	6. Reawakening

-1The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 6: Reawakening

The next morning, Ajira woke to the cool breeze blowing inside her tent. She moaned and noticed she had a large bump on her head, though she had no idea how it had got there. Massaging her injury, she wearily got up on to devilishly aching paws and looked around. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was screaming as her parent's house caught fire out on the Ashland plains. She remembered nothing else. Straining, squinting around, she knew that this was not her comfy hut back at home. This was somewhere...different. Where could she be? Ajira sighed, deep in thought. She remembered vaguely this place, almost as if by déjà vu. She knew she had been here before...but why, when, and what was she doing here now?

She stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. Strangely, all the scattered yurts, the barbaric-looking dark elves, they all looked so familiar to her, she knew she had to remember this place.

Ajira stopped, racking her brains for an answer. She knew her mom had used memory spells before; maybe one had been put on her. But how to break it? She would have to ask her mom. But where was she? Who _was_ her mom? _If it was a memory spell, _thought Ajira bitterly, _it was a damn good one._

"Hey, Ajira!" called an Ashlander across the camp. He looked to be about teenage, and--Ajira couldn't believe her eyes--he was a Khajiit, just like her! She stared, transfixed, at the strange but beautiful boy. She had never seen him around camp before...and how did he know her name? Ajira cautiously walked toward him, trying to smile even though she was deadly suspicious.

"Hey," he said again when she came closer, "My name's Kark. I'm new here at camp, a hostage like you. Nice place, huh?"

Ajira listened and dug out her ears to see if she was hearing correctly. _A hostage like you..._ What did he mean? Was she really a hostage? She didn't remember anything since she was knocked out back at her hut. "I'm...I'm a hostage?" she stammered.

"Obviously," muttered Kark, "Would you be here if you weren't?"

"I don't know why I'm here," said Ajira softly. "I woke up this morning and I was here. It all seems strangely familiar, but I can't tell how. I just woke up and I was here."

"Ah," said the boy, rubbing his chin, "sounds like a memory charm to me. You've probably been here a while, but just don't remember it. I'm a mage-in-training; maybe I can help you."

"I'd like that," smiled Ajira, staring into his steely black eyes. To an outsider, they seemed to have no depth, no light, but Ajira knew that behind the crusted exterior of Kark, there was really something beautiful inside. She walked off with him, following him to a cramped yurt on the corner, and for the first time in many months, actually felt happy.


	7. Mage In Training

The Legend of Ajira

Chapter 7: Mage-In-Training

Ajira walked inside Kark's yurt, which from the outside, looked very small, but as soon as she walked inside, it looked much larger. The small, cramped yurt looked as big as her parent's hut now, and Ajira felt sorely homesick looking at it. As for the sheer size of the seemingly tiny yurt, Ajira expected an Expansion Spell had been used. This surprised her, since he was about her age, and many mages-in-training did not start learning until later. What's more, an Expansion Spell was very powerful, and used a great deal of energy and magic to do it. "Welcome home," said Kark glumly, plopping down on a bed (an actual bed!) situated against the left wall of the room.

"Wow…" Ajira stammered, looking around. "So…Expansion Spell, eh?"

"How'd you know?"

"My mom, Estella Swhen, is a mage. I've picked up a few things."

"Estella Swhen? Wow, she's famous! I must say it's a pleasure to meet Estella's daughter…er, what was your name again?"

"Ajira," she giggled modestly. "I didn't know my mom was so well known."

"Are you kidding? She's taught in all the magic schools of the country! Estella is an icon to young mages like us."

"Wow," said Ajira again in awe. "You know, must of the mages-in-training my mom teaches don't start their apprenticeship till a much later age."

"Let's say…my master made an 'exception' for me. Thought I had real potential."

"That's amazing," said Ajira, absorbed in what Kark was saying. "What magic school do you go to?"

"I go to Kwyn's. The old Kwyn himself is my master. But, enough about me. You came in here to see if I could break your memory charm, is that right?"

"Yes, I suppose. You just told me to follow you."

"Ah, that's right. Anyway, let's get down to business. Please take a seat on the floor in front of me, Ajira, and clear your mind…"

Ajira knew why he was doing this. She had seen her mom do it before with all of her students. The subject's mind had to be clear for any type of magic to work.

Slowly, Ajira's mind emptied of all thoughts, though it took a few minutes. Clearing her mind was not one of her greatest gifts.

"Ok, I'm ready," she mumbled softly.

"All right," said Kark in the same low tone. "Tell me…what is the last thing you remember before you woke up this morning?"

Ajira took a deep breath, let it out. "I was at my parent's hut, on the edge of the Ashlands. We were about to have dinner. Darq, my father, came in with a dead guar he had killed in his hunting. Naturally, Estella was offended, because she does not believe in killing anything and she refused to eat it. They were arguing and I walked outside to get some air, and to get away form all that screaming."

"I see," said Kark thoughtfully. "Go on."

"Well, I heard everything go silent inside and I didn't know what was going on. I went in to see what was happening and there were these two huge dark elves standing there. They had bound and gagged my parents and they were about to set our house on fire. I tried to scream out…" Ajira stopped, wiped a tear from her cheek. "That's the last I can remember."

"Interesting," said Kark. "Sounds just like what happened to me. My house was ambushed and I was knocked out by a huge dark elf."

"You're right."

"Ok now, stand up. I'm going to try to break the spell. You have to keep your mind clear."

Ajira stood up, a little shakily, and doubted whether Kark could break the spell or not. She had just met him; he was a stranger. How could she trust him with something like this? But her instinct told her it was the right thing to do, so she stood up, took a deep breath and smiled.

Kark waved his hands in a circular motion, and chanted:

_Elethi arm osi ah_

_Meli sootha nosi nah_

_Bwyn ga ovyn arla ut_

_Haeman hasa murli noot!_

Ajira felt something like a cold rain wash over her, drenching her whole being. She gasped, as it felt like tiny little fingers were clawing at her mind. Suddenly, it all stopped, she could see again.

She knew where she was. She was in Zainab Ashlander Camp, and the boy standing in front of her was Kark. Her name was Ajira, and her parents were Estella and Darq Swhen. Ajira raised her hands to the sky in thanks. She laughed.

Ajira was finally free.


	8. The Warrior and the Mage: Part II

The Legend of Ajira

Chapter 8: The Warrior and the Mage--Part 2 (Or: RIP)

"Oh, don't touch that! It hurts," Darq moaned softly as Stella tried to dress his wound. He was trying to stay strong, but the wild rogue had given him a good cut over his arm. It had been bleeding furiously, showing no sign of letting up, that is until Stella had to put an Astringency Spell on it to close the wound. It hurt devilishly, feeling as if his arm would fall right off if he even moved it an inch.

"Oooh, careful, careful!" he yelled as she touched a particularly tender spot.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to help it," Stella complained, "If you would just hold still for one minute I could try and heal you but you keep wriggling around."

"Sorry," said Darq in his deep voice, that Stella noticed was getting fainter with every word.

"You need real help," said Estella, faltering. "I'm not sure I can cure this. We have to get you back to the Ashlander Camp. It's our only hope." Tears filled Stella's eyes, blurring her vision. She brushed them away with a swipe of her paw. "There is something I can do, however," said Stella softly. "I will carry you."

"But I'm too heavy!" protested Darq, pausing for a coughing spell.

"I'll manage," said Stella, sobbing. Taking a deep breath, she placed her arms under Darq's dying body and strained to pick him up. After a good deal of exertion, she had him comfortably (or as comfortably as could be said in her situation) cradled in her arms, and slowly, choosing every step, she began the long, slow journey back to the camp.

The evening wore on and turned to night. Stella was walking slower than ever now, clearly showing signs of exhaustion. She couldn't go much farther, and she feared Darq couldn't either. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. With a final scream, she sunk to her knees in the dust, dropping the pale body of her husband. She stroked his forehead with a loving paw, and put her ear to his chest. She gasped, though this had not been unexpected. His heartbeat was slowing. _Thump-thump, thump—thump, thuumpp---thuuump, thummmmmp……_ The heartbeat stopped.

"No," whispered Stella, gazing longingly into his now lifeless eyes. "No…" She lay across him, feeling his body heat diminishing. He was growing colder with every beat of her heart.

Feeling a rush of adrenaline, she picked him up as easily as if he were a feather, and lifted him to the sky, her tear-streaked face shimmering in the pale moonlight. "NOOOOOO!" she shrieked, crying and cursing the heavens. Why had they done this to her? And what would happen to Ajira? She must be getting terribly worried. How would she break the news to her?

Stella sat in the dirt for some time, careless of how long she had been there. The night was a blur, and she woke up the next morning with the sun blaring in her eyes. _Maybe it had just been all a dream…_ she thought with her last bit of hope. But her fears were realized as she looked beside her and saw her husband Darq, cold, pale, and unmoving. The tears came again. She let them fall unchecked.

Stella looked to the distance; saw the Zainab Camp just barely in view. She had almost been there, now everything had been lost. Slowly she picked up Darq again and trudged toward the camp, tears dripping onto Darq's cold body.

At that very moment, Ajira felt a surge go through her. It was her Khajiit senses. She knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. And little did she know she would soon see her mother trudging into view, bearing the dead body of her father.


	9. Moon and Star

The Legend of Ajira

Chapter 9: Moon and Star

Ajira was cold. Very, terribly cold. The sun was beating down merrily on the plains outside, and yet she felt as if her heart she had been plunged into a freezer. She felt a searing sensation in her forehead, worse than a headache; it felt like her head was literally splitting apart.

Gasping for breath, she stumbled out of Kark's tent, not saying a word, and painfully made her way to her own yurt, poised (unfortunately) on the other side of camp. Finally Ajira had made it inside. She cried out in pain. What was happening to her? It was her Khajiit1 senses, obviously; what had happened to make them hurt so? She felt freezing cold, then burning hot.

Then it struck her. Death. She gulped, and took a deep breath. _No, it couldn't be. But it would explain why my parents were mysteriously absent the last few days, and possibly even tied into the Memory Spell incident._ Death. The harsh word rang in her ears tauntingly. Death.

She felt warm tears growing in her eyes. She swiped them away with a slash of her paw. Ajira stumbled to a mirror. _What was happening to me?_ She thought bitterly, gazing with tear-blurred eyes at her reflection.

That's when she saw it. A strange marking had appeared on her forehead…it almost looked like…a star. She wiped her eyes and looked closer, fingering the design on her forehead. It _was_ a star, navy blue in color and with smaller silver stars speckled around it. Did this mean what she thought it meant? Ajira had seen this marking before. She remembered it well…

FLASHBACK to the day Ajira was born

Estella Swhen lay on her back in the middle of a dry field right outside her house. She stared up at the stars happily. She occasionally moved her lips as if she was forming words, but no sound escaped them. She would mouth something, pause, and then mouth something else. Almost as if…she was talking to the sky. But of course that wasn't possible. The sky could not talk, and everyone knew that without really thinking about it. It was just one of those things that is generally accepted without much thought. And yet, it looked creepily like Estella was talking to the sky!

Stella stared, eyes wide open, at a single star in the vast array. She mouthed something to the effect of "the birthmark". She paused, waited. Stella mouthed this time "When will it be ready?" And at that moment, Stella smiled, nodded, and got up. She walked back to her hut, where a small Khajiit babe was crying. Her husband, Mar, looked at her with pleading eyes and whispered, "Well? What did Riona say?"

Stella whispered back, "she said it will appear when she is ready for it, and ready for her destiny."

"Destiny?" said Mar, barely audible.

"Yes. Apparently we have been given a gift, a child who is to one day fulfill a great prophecy and change the land forever."

"Gaia2 help us raise this child, so that she will be ready to take on that challenge, whatever that may be."

FLASHBACK OVER

Immediately Ajira knew what this meant. All those times she had been told to wait till she was ready…Those times were over.

She had gotten her star, and she could finally say that she was ready.

1 Khajiit—A rare race of 'cat-people'. They walk on two legs and talk like humans, yet they have the appearance of a cat.

2 Gaia—supreme goddess in Khajiit lore.


	10. The Bad News

The Legend of Ajira

Chapter 10: The Bad News

Ajira cheered and leaped to the sky, forgetting instantly the sickening feeling of death she had had only a few moments ago. She was free! Finally she was ready, and now she could learn about everything she needed to know. Millions of questions bubbled in her head. _What was the prophecy? Where were her parents? Why was she here? And what was the significance of Kark?_ She couldn't wait to get them answered, so she burst out the door into the…pouring rain. Rain? Thought Ajira in disbelief? Rain? There were two things vey wrong with this. Number One: This was the Ashlands, the desert. It had not rained (not that Ajira could remember) since she was born, and now this sudden outburst? Number Two: The sun was shining brightly over the Ashlands not five minutes ago. There wasn't a cloud in the sky; Ajira had seen it herself. And now this? This was a magical storm, this was. Forgetting all about her "burning questions", she sped off toward the Ashkhan's yurt at a full run.

"Ashkhan Maroulis! Ashkhan!" gasped Ajira, bursting into the Ashkhan's tent. Generally this would have been a penalty of death for bursting into the Ashkhan's tent without an appointment, but the elders understood Ajira was under special circumstances, and she could not be killed if she was to fulfill the prophecy. Ashkhan Maroulis looked irritatingly calm, given the harsh situation. "Hello, Ajira," said Maroulis in as calm a voice as ever. "What do you need?" He smiled at her politely. "You are our guest, and you should be treated with respect. Whatever you need, please ask. Surely you didn't pop into my tent screaming just to see me, did you?" He chuckled a little.

Ajira sighed, exasperated. "Can't you—you don't—look outside!" Ajira screamed before she could stop herself.

"There is no need to scream, Ajira," said Maroulis softly. "I am perfectly aware of what is happening. It is raining."

"Yes! Isn't that weird? It _never_ rains here!"

"It does now. You see, certain events can bring about a significant change in the world around them. A rainforest may become dry. The Ashlands may start raining. What I am saying, Ajira—is that—certain events…such as the death of someone…(Ajira got a cold, sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach again)…can alter the whole destiny and the destiny of all other people close to them, thusly changing their whole environment."

Ajira looked at him, confused, afraid. "You mean…someone did die? I felt it in my Khajiit senses but I never…"

"Yes, Ajira," said Ashkhan Maroulis sadly, a hint of sympathy in his voice. "I have received word…your father is dead."

All time stopped for Ajira at that moment. Her father? Dead? Had she heard him right? "Excuse…me?"

"I am sorry. Your father is dead. He and your mother were attacked by one of our outcasts, lurking in the woods."

"What were they doing?" whispered Ajira, tears running down her cheeks.

"I'm not sure you're ready…"

"YES! I AM READY!" screeched Ajira. "YOU'VE TOLD ME ALL THIS FREAKIN' TIME THAT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TELL ME ONE FREAKIN' DETAIL "UNTIL I'M READY"! WELL GUESS WHAT, "ASHKHAN"! I'VE GOT MY STAR NOW ON MY FOREHEAD, OK! WHEN I GET MY STAR THAT MEANS I'M GROWN UP, AND I'M READY! NOW YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT I NEED TO KNOW! WHAT WERE MY PARENTS DOING?"

"Calm down, Ajira. There's no need to yell."

"TELL ME, DAMN YOU!" She paused, taking deep breaths, seething.

Ashkhan Maroulis still stayed eerily calm. "All right, Ajira. Sit down. Get a glass of water, make yourself comfortable. I'm going to tell you everything."


	11. The Truth

The Legend of Ajira

Chapter 11: The Truth

Ajira sat down dumbly on the carpeted floor of the Ashkhan's yurt. Maroulis paced nervously, being careful not to tread on his ornate rugs, as he spoke.

"So you want to know everything…" he began.

"Yes—please," whispered Ajira softly.

The Ashkhan took a deep breath and began again. "As I am fairly sure you are aware, you were 'kidnapped', shall you say, for a specific reason. Everything we do here in Zainab Camp has a reason, and let me assure you; we did not burn your home and kidnap your family out of pure spite."

Ajira scowled, baring her teeth.

"Yes, I know it is hard to believe." The Ashkhan spoke in a calm, but condescending tone. "But…" he sighed. "I suppose it is finally time to tell you about your destiny."

"My destiny?" said Ajira softly, not daring to believe what she was hearing.

"A long ago, a prophet came to our tribe. He lived with us for over 50 years, and then one day, he vanished. Only one thing was left in his tent when we searched it." The Ashkhan reached deep into a pocket of his robe. He drew out a small box about the size of his hand. Revealing a key on a chain around his neck, he unlocked the box and pulled out an old scrap of parchment. It was all crumpled and Maroulis smoothed it out over a table. Ajira could see some sort of squiggly writing all over the paper, now that she really looked at it. It appeared to be in some sort of code.

"This, Ajira, is a prophecy. There are many floating around in this world, and one only has to find them." He noticed Ajira staring at the strange markings on the paper and added, "All true prophecies come in this form."

"When we found this scrap of paper inside the prophet's tent, we knew he had left us this message for a reason. We got our wisest wise women and men to work for days on end trying to decipher it. Finally, one made a breakthrough."

"Who was it?"

"Ahhh, that, my girl, you are about to find out. As we struggled for days and nights over this puzzle-" he indicated the prophecy with a flick of his hand, "someone wandered upon our camp. Someone we did not expect."

"This mysterious visitor was a Khajiit, like yourself. (Ajira's eyes widened, for Khajiits were one of the rarer species on the land) His name was Kark."

"What…did you say?" Ajira whispered.

"Our visitor was a Khajiit named Kark." He noticed Ajira's look of shock. "Oh, so you are thinking of the Kark that is at our camp presently. It may come as a surprise, but Kark is over 100 years old."

How could this be? She had fallen in love with an 100 year old! Khajiits didn't even live that long! The oldest one she knew was only 65.

"Kark is…special, shall we say. For one, he is an immortal, and looks forever young. For another, he is an angel."

All this was too much for Ajira. She screamed loudly, so much that Maroulis had to Silence her before going on.

"Yes, Kark is an angel. He may not look it, as he has chosen the form of a Khajiit, but yes, he is an angel. He was brought from the heavens for the specific purpose of helping you on your journey. He is also the one who deciphered the prophecy."

"Let me read you what it said. It concerns you, so listen closely."

_At the 1st day of Frostfall a new dawn arises_

_And she in cat form will brush with destiny_

_Long lived angel, come down from the heavens_

_Help this poor girl and her fate._

_She be the one_

_As the darkness arises_

_Free all the slaves and whats more_

_A servant girl herself such surprises_

_Shall change the land forevermore._

_Take her to the one with fur color amber_

_Care for and give her some food_

_Soon she will know that a dark one approaches_

_And she is the one who must do good._

_Powerful parents a warrior and mage_

_And a comfy hut on the shores_

_Of the Ashlands she will be born_

_And destiny comes into play once more._

_Look to the stars, all you blathering fools!_

_Do as the cats have long done_

_And only then may you find the right one._

_Once you have her make sure and make haste_

_That she stays around_

_For no time is to waste._

_Train her well and the angel's help_

_Will help this cat to find herself_

_When the time is right, you and she will know_

_Then, only then can she be set off on a journey_

_She with the star that mar her forehead_

_Will be the one, she will be the one._

_Make haste for the darkness of the land is yet to come._

_What do you wait for, fools? Run!_


	12. Kark's Secret

The Legend of Ajira

Chapter 12: Kark's Secret

Ajira just sat there, in shock. She gazed with huge eyes at Ashkhan Maroulis, and he replied back with a sorrowful stare.

Ajira sighed, and leaned against the wall of the tent, moaning. She couldn't dare believe all that she was hearing! This was all too much information at once! Her dad was dead, Kark was a 100-year-old angel, she was the subject of some ancient prophecy, and she was destined to drive evil from the land! It couldn't be true, it just couldn't. And yet…it was.

"I am sorry," said the Ashkhan in deep tones. "But as the prophecy states—it is time to begin your training." He ushered her out the door.

"What training?" screamed Ajira. She felt herself being dragged toward Kark's tent. _No_, she fought in her head; _I don't ever want to go back there. He lied to me!_

"Inside," said the Ashkhan solemnly. Ajira felt a push upon her back, and all at once, she was thrown into the darkness of Kark's tent.

"Hey," came a soft voice from out of the gloom. "So you've figured out my secret, eh?"

"Who are you?" Ajira whispered. "I befriended you! And all this time you were hiding this from me! I don't even want to talk to you anymore, Kark, if that is your real name!"

"Listen, Ajira, I'm sorry. They told me I had to get close to you so you could start on fulfilling the prophecy. I'm really sorry I had to lie to you."

"Who's _they_?"

"Listen to me! I really want to help you! That stupid memory spell was put on you by one of the more foolish elders. He believed that if you had a clean memory to work with, everything would run much smoother. And you wouldn't ask so many questions. Yet, his plans backfired when you had more problems than ever. Well, that was my cue. I knew to wait for the right moment to come here, and as soon as I saw that you had lost your memory, I knew that this was the perfect chance to introduce myself to you. I chose the form of a Khajiit to make you feel more comfortable. Do you understand? I just want to help you."

"Why?"

"It's my job."


	13. Stella's Night

The Legend of Ajira By Allison Nelson 

Chapter 13: Stella's Night

Stella, spluttering, trudged into view the next morning after a long sleep. The sun was just rising, and she was utterly exhausted, even though she had just been sleeping. Staring at Darq's rotting corpse on the ground, she sighed, closing her eyes, and wept for him once more.

Her eyes were sore from crying, and they stung in the sandy wind that blew from the camp. She worried for herself, and she worried for Ajira. She wondered if the Ashkhan had already told her the bad news. Stella hoped that she wasn't taking it too hard.

"I failed," she whispered sorrowfully. "We were given a mission, and we failed. Oh, how will I tell the Elders? O woeful fate! Why did it have to turn out this way? Why?"

She sunk down on the muddy ground, wondering in awe for the first time all night why it was raining. She knew as well as her daughter that rain in these parts was nearly impossible. She sniffed the air curiously. _Of course._ Stella, being a mage, sensed the slight burning scent of magic. She had realized, just like her daughter, that this was no ordinary storm. _This was a magical storm. _Stella sniffed the air again, just to be sure. Yes, there was definitely magic afoot. But from who?

She swiped a single tear from her cheek with a brush of her paw. For the first time since she had sat down, Stella noticed how wet she was. The ground had been saturated with wither from the night before, and it was still raining. The ground could not hold anymore water, and rain ran off of the ground in small little streams. The little vegetation the area had was limp and soggy from the torrential rains. Stella's robes she had had wrapped around her were muddy, smelly, and soaked through. Estella was tired to the bone. She had to get back to camp, she had to…

_Maybe just another short rest…just to wait till the rain stops. Then I'll go down to camp for sure…but now, just a little nap…_

Stella lay down in the mud, rain splashing mercilessly against her furry face, and went back to sleep.

_Stella was in a vast room. She looked around in awe. The walls were a deep, deep, red—almost the color of blood. The ceiling was bare, save a candelabra hanging from a chain. The floor was covered in a lush carpet of moss, and giant tapestries hung from the walls in every direction. _

_A figure floated toward her. No feet or legs were visible, and an elaborate robe shrouded the rest of the body. A hood was pulled low over the figure's face._

_Suddenly, it spoke in a low, reverberating tone, unlike any Stella had ever heard…except for one. But no, it certainly couldn't be…_

"_Soooooo…My servant has failed me." He looked down menacingly at Stella, who was laying on the floor. The figure's face was still cloaked by the darkness._

"_Althar..." whispered Estella slowly, sitting up. "Is it really you?"_

"_Indeed, it is I, Althar, God of the Magical Arts. You should know, mage. All students in the Tower of Sorcery are servants to me. You should know this, mage!"_

_Stella sighed in awe. She had long worshipped and idolized Althar. He was the god she had learned of long ago, when she had been accepted into his service at the Tower of Sorcery. She remembered the day…it was so long ago, nearly 20 years, and yet Stella still recalled it as if it was yesterday. The day she had started her training as a mage under the High God Althar…_

"_Stella…" said Althar condescendingly. "I gave you a mission. You may not have been aware, but I gave you a mission the day you started your training."_

"_You had dreamed of this mission many times before, not knowing that it was assigned by me. Your mission was, as I hope you are aware, to one day have a child—"_

"_And I did! What else is there to do?"_

"_You were to protect her! Protect her, help her grow, bide by the prophecy and prepare her for her destiny! Does this sound at all familiar to you!"_

"_I tried, Master. I am sorry I have failed—"_

"_I do not want excuses! Because of you, your daughter is being trained under some idiot named Kark! He is a fake and a liar! All Ashlanders are."_

"_You lie," gasped Stella, panting. "Those Ashlanders are our friends!"_

"_Friends that kidnap you, burn your home, and send you and your husband off on some wild goose chase! What kind of friends are those?"_

"_I'm sorry!"_

"_You must be punished!..."_

Stella woke with a start in the middle of the plains, gasping. She held a hand to her heart. "Althar…" she whispered, and slumped over.


	14. Taryngoth

The Legend of Ajira

By Allison Nelson

Chapter 14: Taryngoth

"Well, are you ready?" Kark said slowly, almost silently.

The entire time Ajira had been in the Ashlander Camp she had been told to wait until she was ready. She lived in a world where everyone else looked down upon her and made her own decisions for her. Everything she wanted was always denied from her. Ajira had had a hard life in Zainab Camp; everyone was so different from her and corruption and prejudice reigned. And now, here she was, standing in the magically enlarged hut of someone she barely knew; she had been "chosen" by an ancient prophecy to save the land from an unseen evil, her father was dead, her mother was missing, and an angel was supposed to train her for her "destiny"! What was a Khajiit to do at a time like this? Why was she being asked if she was ready? All of the older, wiser ones, she thought, were supposed to make that decision for her! She didn't know what to say.

Ajira was feeling a little lightheaded, and she sat down on the ground to calm herself. She took a deep breath, searching the air for any hint of sarcasm or deceit in his voice. "Yes…" she said shakily, standing up. "I am ready!"

"That's good then, sweetpea," joked Kark, giving her a playful shove. "We'd better get started then! Come with me."

Nothing could have prepared Ajira for what happened next.

With a twirling motion of his hands and an incoherent jumble of foreign words, a swirling vortex of light and color appeared right in front of them. Ajira gasped. She had never seen her mom do anything like that! Kark smirked at her. Very calmly, he stepped through the glowing portal. "Kark?" called Ajira cautiously. "Can you hear me?"

A muted mumble came from the other side. "Yea, I hear you. Come on!"

"But what is this thing?" yelled Ajira into the portal. "What is it for?"

"This," said Kark proudly, "is an Interworld Portal, an 'ip', for short. It's one of the many advantages of being an angel. Nice, huh?"

"Sure," said Ajira slowly, with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "What do you mean, 'Interworld'? Is there really more than one world?"

"Absolutely! There are infinitely many worlds, all coexisting simultaneously on top of one another. As an angel, I have been to almost all of them. When I want to open up an ip, all I have to do is to think in my head what world I want to go to, and then it just opens."

"Ok, then…What world are we going to?"

"A very nice one, actually. Today we are going to Taryngoth. I think you will quite like it there."

"What's it like?" called Ajira.

"Step through and find out."

Ajira let a little sob out. "Kark, I'm scared."

"Come now, it'll all be fine. This is what's meant to happen. You would not have been chosen if you were not capable."

"I can't," whispered Ajira. "What if I can't get back?"

"You can. You will. I'm here, remember? I'm an angel. If I can't get you home, no one can, and I'm sure you will get home." Kark stepped back through the portal right in front of Ajira. He stared into her eyes deeply and put a furry paw on her shoulder. "It's fine."

Taking her paw in his, he led her through the portal confidently. Ajira felt a wild tingling sensation as she stepped through, and then the blare of the morning sun in her eyes. She put up a paw to shield her eyes before looking around at this new world.

Taryngoth, as Kark had said, was quite a respectable place. The grass was green, the sky was blue, and the sun was shining merrily. Butterflies were floating about on multicolored wings, and there were trees flanking the edge of the field, all bearing delicious-looking fruit. A sign right next to where they were standing read "Welcome to Taryngoth", and an ornate castle lay somewhere across the horizon.

"Wow," breathed Ajira, taking in everything she was seeing. "It's beautiful…"

"So are you," said Kark, staring at her.

"What?" asked Ajira, not daring to believe what she had just heard.

"Umm…err…uh, nothing. Nothing." Kark sighed.

"Right…" said Ajira slowly, but Kark's words still rang in her mind. She couldn't say anything, though. What could she say? Kark was an angel, and angels and mortals definitely didn't mix. They couldn't be in love, she knew it, but the pain of that just tore at her more. They were not meant to be together, it just couldn't be. Kark did not deserve her; he deserved another angel, just like him. Besides, what would the gods say? They would punish Kark and Ajira both if they found out.

Yet, somehow, she couldn't get him out of her head…


	15. Firelad and Moonsliver

The Legend of Ajira

By Allison Nelson

Chapter 15: Firelad and Moonsliver

Taryngoth was everything Kark had said it would be, and more. What she had seen as she stepped through the portal was only the beginning. As they walked toward the beautiful town, they spotted a large, healthy-looking apothecary called "Firelad's Potions". Ajira did not have a chance to go in there presently, though her heart sorely wanted to. Who knew what magical secrets lay deep within the apothecary? Ajira's heart saddened as she thought of her mom. Where was she? She hadn't been seen in over a week, unusual for one of her usual ventures. For all she knew, she could be dead, too, just like her dad. Tears begun to well up again in her swollen red eyes.

_If only Estella could see this…_ she thought sorrowfully. _It would be so amazing to her, to visit another world._ _Wonder what she'd think of Kark? Would she think him nice? A joke? A fraud? Too good for her daughter? Would she hold him in the highest regard, or look scornfully upon him with a glaring eye? She probably wouldn't believe Kark when he stated that he was an angel. Or would she? _She wondered if Stella know this "Firelad". He might have worked with her in the Tower of Sorcery, or maybe even began his training with her. Who knew? Who could ever know? She probably wouldn't ever see her mom again…

Ajira gasped a little, sobbing, fighting back tears as hard as she could. She had been dragged all too quickly into a surreal quest, a quest across the land to battle some unknown darkness that was supposedly infecting the world, and even though she had said that she was ready, she wasn't truthfully sure that she actually was. What if she failed? What would happen then?

"Kark?" she asked, almost silently.

His strong voice returned beside her. "Yes?"

"What happens if I fail? How do you--how do I--know if I am ready for this mission or not?"

"Look at me." said Kark, turning her around to face him. "I wasn't there when this prophecy was made, but I've heard enough about it to know that you are definitely the one. The first time I saw you, I knew that you were the right one. Think back on the last few days…you've been through a lot."

Ajira did as Kark had said, stopping for a moment to review everything that had happened to her since she was kidnapped. Her house was burned, she woke up in Ashlander camp, met the Ashkhan, saw her parents, ate a magical breakfast (this was when she first discovered her parents were gone), overheard two elves talking about the prophecy, figured out she was the subject of it, met Kark, found out he was an angel, fell in love…wow! Now that she thought of it, that was a lot of things to happen to her in just a few days! She had not thought of it before, but now that she really took a moment to think, it was a little overwhelming. It had all happened so fast…

Regaining her composure, Ajira and Kark continued on through the town, passing several other shops and taverns as they went. She failed to notice many of them as she passed, but another caught her eye. The sign had a moon and a star engraved on the wooden sign hanging above the door, and the words "Moonsliver Weaponry" were imprinted in fancy script. Ajira stopped again to wonder in awe. She knew she had heard of that name before, she just couldn't remember where…

Breaking her out of her thoughts was Kark, with a light tap on her shoulder. "Would you like to go inside, check it out? A hero needs a good weapon too, you know!"

The rising bubble of excitement within her had burst. "I'd love to!" she screamed, running inside. Kark followed after her at a walk, shaking his head.

The inside of Moonsliver was intricate as much as it was beautiful. Innumerable rugs overlapped and lined the floor. Maybe there wasn't even a floor; Ajira couldn't tell because of the rugs completely covering it. All sorts of fantastical items hung on the walls, shiny display cases, and a few things hung from the ceiling. There was a claymore here, a shiny saber there, weapons of all sorts, shapes, and sizes in the small but beautiful shop. Ajira could only stare in awe. She didn't know where to start.

Kark came in after her. He had been to this store many times before; in fact, he had also purchased his first weapon here. In fact, he still carried it, but he kept it concealed away as he had never had need to use it. It was a strong ivory long bow, and though Kark had never needed to use it, it was a source of great pride to him. He still polished it excessively every day. The beautiful bow used gleaming green glass arrows, each deadly point as sharp as a thorn. Kark kept his arrows sharp as well, cleaning and sharpening them daily.

But yet, something wasn't right. Kark could feel it all over, from the tips of his furry ears to the last claw on his foot. Something was not right about this shop, and having been here so many times before, he should know.

Ajira had always thought of Kark as a high authority figure that would show her the way to go. He was an angel, after all. That is why Ajira could not believe her eyes when Kark took up his giant ivory bow and shot the storekeeper in the head.


	16. The Dakoshian Mark

The Legend of Ajira

By Allison Nelson

Chapter 16: The Dakoshian Mark

Ajira just stood there, unable to believe her eyes. What had Kark just done? He was supposed to be an angel, and angels didn't run around shooting people! She was speechless. "What—just--" she stammered, so shocked she couldn't form her words properly.

Kark saw her stammering and a look of great sadness crossed his face. This was the saddest Ajira had ever seen him. Kark stared at the ground, shuffling his paws, like a guilty little child being caught in the act. "I've killed," whispered Kark. "I…don't know what came over me..I…I…" He walked mournfully over to the corpse sprawled over the countertop. The once brilliant glass arrow had shattered as it hit the storekeeper's skull, and little green shard of glass stained with blood were embedded in his flesh. A few pieces were scattered among the weapons on display. Blood was leaking from his wound onto the countertop. Kark sighed.

"Can't you bring him back?" cried Ajira tearfully.

Kark, brushing back a rare tear, answered softly, "I do not have that kind of power."

Ajira was sobbing uncontrollably. It had all happened too fast, and Kark, her idol, her love, her "guardian angel", had just killed someone.

"Why?" whispered Ajira.

"I…don't know…" mumbled Kark, rubbing his great furry head. "I remember something didn't feel right…not right at all…"

"You've been here before?"

"Yes, many times. In fact, that bow," He pointed to the bow, lying sadly on the ground, "Was my first weapon. I got it from this very shop, from that very same man…" Kark sniffed. "I've…got to go for a minute…I won't be long…Wait for me here." He laid a hand on Ajira's shoulder. "The high angels must've heard what I've done by now. I'm sure they'll want a hearing. Got to go try and explain what I've done." He gave Ajira a long, mournful look. With a magic word and a clap of his paws, he was gone in an explosion of light.

Ajira had never felt so alone.

Several hours had passed. Kark was still not back. Ajira had passed the time by browsing around the shop and looking at everything. She saw sabers, long fancy claymores, daggers, poison darts, shiny spears, crossbows, longswords, broadswords, and lots more. She marveled over the novelty of colorful arrows and bows, and admired the ferocity of the giant swords.

After a while, Ajira had begun to get bored. She had seen all there was to see, it seemed. She wanted to go explore the town some more, but she did not want to disobey Kark. She decided to examine the poor corpse of the man who could've been a great trainer to her. Ajira noticed that his sleeve was ripped. As she touched the fabric, her fingers tingled with magic. _This man was not who Kark said he was. _Ajira wondered in the darkest corners of her mind if this man was somehow an imposter. It was possible. Estella had told her several stories of people claiming to be who they weren't. If this man was an imposter, where was the real shopkeeper? _Was_ there a real shopkeeper? Was this the same man Kark had known?

Suddenly, she spotted something on the man's arm. A tattoo of some sort. She pushed the sleeve up in order to get a better look at it.

The tattoo was a small black triangle, split in to 3 parts. One of the parts was colored black, and the other 2 sections were hollow. The letter "D" was tattooed boldly below the triangle.

Ajira closed her eyes; she was having a vision in her head…

"_She be the one as the darkness arises…she is the one who must do good…The darkness of the land is yet to come, yet to come…"_

Ajira moaned. It was the prophecy, ringing in her ears! She couldn't get it out of her head! What did it want her to do? Or know? "Whats happening?" yelled Ajira to the empty shop. "What's wrong with me!"

The prophecy rung in her ears louder and louder. She couldn't take it anymore, it had to stop…

"_The darkness of the land is yet to come, yet to come…"_


	17. Before the Board of Elders

The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 17: Before the Board of Elders

Authors Note: This chapter tells about Kark as he has to attend a hearing before the Board of Immortal Elders (BOIE).

Kark was standing in a vast room. He had only been here once before and yet he knew the place well. A chill ran through him. He was standing in the court of the BOIE, the Board of Immortal Elders. Angels held great responsibility, and if one committed any crime, it was reported immediately to the BOIE, and a hearing was required. Kark had been tried before. He had been charged with revealing his identity to a Mortal. That is, a Mortal he was not assigned to. Ajira was different. The Prophecy assigned Kark to help and protect her.

The vaulted cathedral ceiling rose high above his head and the polished marble floor was so shiny Kark could see his own nervous reflection in it. Kark stared at the high ceiling, wondering. What would happen when the Elders arrived? What would he say? He wondered if he would be required to change back to Angel form, a generic form used by the angels and other creatures when not in contact with the Mortals. Angel form required you to reveal your true self, your real form, even if you had chosen another permanent form. In Kark's case, he had chosen the form of a Khajiit as his Permanent form, being that he did most of his work with that species. But they only did that in severe cases. Then again, what he had done was severe.

Kark's true form was a gigantic winged creature, with a great green scaly tail and long protruding ears. He had pierced them in several places with metal rings. His skin was a pale green color from his head to his waist, and his tail was a slightly darker color. He had flaring deep red eyes set low on his face. A leather cord hung around his neck with a strange amulet. The bronze disk had a cloud, a star, and a lightning bolt engraved upon it. A moonstone accented the star, and a yellow crystal outlined the bolt of lightning. This was Kark's symbol, a mark he had created for himself, for identification purposes, and just to highlight his position as an Angel. It was only visible when he was in Angel form. Actually, Kark wore it constantly and he never took it off, but he did not think Ajira, or anyone else for that matter, really needed to see it. It was personal.

"Step forward, Kark Lazarath." boomed a godly voice from the ceiling. It was the High Elder, Onyx Everton."

Kark slowly walked forward, surprised and a little shocked that he had been called by his full name. Still, it was no matter.

"Earlier today, we received word that you opened an Interworld Portal to the land of Taryngoth. In the presence of a Mortal. Is this correct?"

"Yes, your Honor." mumbled Kark.

"And is it true that you went into a certain shop allegedly named 'Moonsliver Weaponry'?"

"Yes, your Honor."

"Could you tell me why you were in Taryngoth? With a Mortal, no less?"

Kark could not tell if the High Elder was angry or amused. His voice showed no emotion. "I took my Mortal there to buy a weapon. She is the subject of a Prophecy, you see, and…"

"A Prophecy, you say?" yelled the High Elder Onyx. "Are you the one assigned to that Ajira girl?"

"Yes, your Honor. I was the one."

"Well, this changes everything!" said the High Elder with a robust laugh. "But you are still in trouble."

Kark frowned. He had hoped that maybe he would get off the hook.

"We have heard that you shot and killed this shopkeeper, allegedly named Moonsliver."

"But sir," started Kark in protest, "He had the Dakoshian Mark!"

"He didn't," said the Elder in disbelief. "You lie. Dakosh has been gone for centuries! There is no way he could return!"

"He did! He has! Can't you see? He has spies everywhere, already! Dakosh is coming, and only Ajira can stop him!"

"Well then, I should hope you told Ajira about Dakosh and his Mark. She needs to know."

Kark mumbled something incoherent and shuffled his feet.

"What was that?"

Kark mumbled again, like a child in trouble.

"You haven't told her, have you!"

He stammered, "I was getting around to it! I didn't feel like she should have that on her shoulders…"

"When were you planning on telling her?"

"You know, sometime…"

"How dare you! If what you say is true and Dakosh really has returned, then Ajira needs to know what she is getting herself into. There is still time for her to give up the responsibility, you know that? The Prophecy does not bind her to do any of this! It is her own decision! And if she gives up, this world and all the others will be doomed. Yes, you need to comfort Ajira and make sure she does not give up, but she needs to know _the facts!_

"Well, you have to understand…"

"THERE IS NOTHING TO UNDERSTAND! YOU ARE DISMISSED!" There was a crack of thunder and the room grew silent.

Kark stared at the ground. He should've told her from the start. How could he have been so stupid! The truth, Kark had thought, would only frighten her more than she is already. She would give up for sure if she knew what she was getting herself into. There was nothing left to do but go back to Taryngoth and tell Ajira the truth. He mumbled a word and clapped his paws, and he was off.


	18. Dakosh

The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 18: Dakosh

Kark reappeared in Moonsliver Weaponry, looking quite exhausted. "What happened?" asked Ajira, staring at him with a pleading face.

Kark sighed, put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I haven't been entirely honest with you."

"What do you mean?"

"This man," Kark said, motioning at the dead Moonsliver. "Is not the real Moonsliver."

"I knew it!" shrieked Ajira. With a glare from Kark, she went silent again.

"This man is a spy for Dakosh. I think you've seen the Mark."

"Is that the triangle on his arm?" asked Ajira, in a moment of revelation.

"Yes. All followers of Dakosh bear that mark."

"But who is this 'Dakosh'?"

Kark sighed ruefully. This wasn't going to be easy. "Dakosh was…well…let me tell you a story." He waved his hands around and a bright yellow book fell from the sky into his waiting hands. The title said _The Origin of Dakosh, His Defeat, and his Imminent Return._

"Where'd you get that?" wondered Ajira, pointing to the book.

"Never you mind. Let me tell you this story…" He put on a strange pair of reading glasses and began to read aloud.

_Once upon a time, there was a town called Balmora. It was healthy and happy, and had everything the villagers needed: an inn for travelers, many stores, and a large mages guild and fighters guild. The Blades also had their headquarters there, but not many knew of it, for the Blades were the spies for the King and needed to remain secret. Over time, a corrupted wood elf came to rule the town. His name was Dakosh. He was cruel and ruthless. His darkness spread over the land, corrupting the whole land of Vvardenfell. At times there seemed no way out, not anytime soon. But a Prophecy was made, (much like the one you are of) and a humble Argonian rose to the challenge to conquer Dakosh. The details of his defeat are hazy, but the Argonian fought Dakosh bravely. He, unfortunately, died in the final battle with Dakosh, but he brought him down with him. He is still remembered as a great hero even today. That was centuries ago. Everyone thought Dakosh was gone. Until lately. The Dakoshian Mark has been appearing everywhere, and we believe Dakosh is preparing to make a comeback. So, of course, a Prophecy was made again to predict what would happen, and it clearly stated you as the one who could bring down Dakosh and his dark followers. Now, you have a choice to make: The Prophecy binds you to nothing. Whether you continue or not from here is your decision alone. You know the consequences, and you must understand that you may not come out alive. But understand this: you are our only hope. If you choose to give up now, your world and all the others will be doomed under Dakosh's power. But now I'm telling you the truth; I'm telling you that this quest that you are on is not just a fun hobby: This is serious stuff, and you have to be prepared to give anything to defeat Dakosh. Your decision, and your future, waits. The End_

Ajira stood there dumbly, her mouth sagging open and millions of thoughts racing through her head. She could die if she accepted this Prophecy. Or she could take that chance and maybe come out a Hero. What should she do?

"Kark…" she whispered.

"I'll give you time to think." He vanished again.

"Kark…" whispered Ajira again, but there was no one there to hear her.


	19. Ashikarilini

-1The Legend of Ajira

Chapter 19: The Dream

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Brittna', who gave me the name of the new character in this chapter. Thank you, Brittna'!

It had been several hours since Kark had left Ajira alone to decide her fate. She had found a small bedroom at the back of the shop, presumably where Moonsliver had slept. The bed was creaky and worn, and Ajira was a little uncomfortable sleeping in a dead man's bed, but it felt nice to rest. It seemed like forever since she had slept in a bed, when in fact it was only a few days. Ajira lay there silently, the auburn fur on her face matted from the constant flow of tears. She had been racking her brains all evening, trying desperately to decide whether to Accept the Prophecy or not. Her head ached terribly. In fact, every part of her ached. Even her soul was crying out. _This was too much for me to handle, _she thought bitterly in her head. _I shouldn't have had to make such an important decision as this. Or better yet, I shouldn't have been assigned to that stupid Prophecy at all. My life was just fine before._

Ajira stopped, suddenly thinking of her mom. _I wonder what she would say right now, if she knew that I, her only daughter, was able to Accept a Prophecy. Does she even know right now? _Ajira hadn't seen her mom Estella in what seemed like ages. She would've liked to deny it, but her mind had already subconsciously labeled her as dead. Would she ever know her mom's fate? Would she ever see her again?

She was overcome once more, growing silent but for the slight sniffling sounds of her sobs. Taking several deep, ragged breaths, she told herself not to worry. _Don't think about Mom...just don't think about her. Think about the task at hand. _A thought hit Ajira like a truck. _Think of Kark._

Thinking of Kark both soothed and exhilarated her. They had only known each other for a few days, and yet she felt genuinely in love. She knew of course that Kark was only doing his duty to the Gods, but he felt like so much more to her. She wondered if Kark was not an angel, if he was not forever immortal and he did not have supernatural magical abilities known only to the Gods, and he didn't _have_ to help her do anything...Could they ever be together? She remembered the first time they had met. It seemed so long ago now. In reality, it was only a few days. Or was it? Ajira had completely lost all track of time. She remembered feeling a little surprised that there was another Khajiit in the camp, and she remembered, well, not remembering anything. She would have never met Kark if it hadn't been for the Memory Spell put upon her. _Thank you,_ she whispered to the Gods, _for bringing us together._

Where would she be now without Kark? He had helped her so much. She would probably still be in Zainab Camp now, oblivious to her destiny. She didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Maybe she would still be in her comfy little hut now, living happily with her parents, with not a care or worry about the world.

Ajira sighed ruefully, slumping over on the worn bed. She took several slow, deep breaths. Her eyes stung and she was truly exhausted. She began to feel extremely tired, her eyes begging to close. The dim light in the shop and a slight breeze blowing in from town soothed her, and made her forget all about her troubles, at least for the moment. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep...

_Ajira found herself in the middle of the forest. It was the middle of the day and the sun was shining brightly, but not much light was let in under the thick blanket of trees. She walked carefully through the forest, having no idea where she was. It became increasingly hard to see, and the path was getting rough. Suddenly she tripped over a root sticking up from the ground..._

_She opened her eyes to find herself in the middle of the sea. A wave of fear struck her. How could she breathe? Ajira looked around, feeling the breath in her lungs diminishing. Feeling a shower of pink sparkles rain over her head, she gasped for breath, and discovered that someone had cast Water Breathing on her. But who? She spun around, the water rushing in her ears and stinging her eyes. Another Khajiit floated before her, smiling and waving. She looked a little younger than Ajira, and was dressed in lavish clothes, the folds of her elegant shirt billowing in the water. Bubbles issued from her mouth. She pointed a paw toward the surface, indicating for her to follow. Ajira swam upward, seeing the sun glinting above the water..._

_Ajira then found herself in a Telvanni home. It amazed her how everything was made of trees and roots, and this...bulbous material. Her mother had helped teach several of the great Telvanni Mages. The young Khajiit girl waved again, motioning for her to sit down on a tree stump-stool. Ajira wanted to say _Who are you?_ but she didn't want to seem rude. The girl seemed to have read her mind. _"My name's Ashikarilini1..."

Gasping, Ajira woke uneasily, to find that she was still in Moonsliver's shop, and she still had a decision to make. Groaning, she rolled over, wishing she could fall back asleep. To make things worse, she heard the rush of magic outside the door, meaning Kark had returned.

He walked forward and pushed open the door to her room gently. "Ajira?" he said softly. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Startled and confused, Ajira got up and walked to the door, peeking out. A small Khajiit hand waved.

"Meet Ashikarilini."

1 Ashikarilini - Ash-ih-CAR-uh-lean-ee


	20. The Missing Piece

-1The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 20: The Missing Piece

Ajira stared on in disbelief. This was the girl she had been dreaming about! Ashikarilini was even wearing the same clothes, from her elegant shirt, right down to her pointed leather shoes. She wore a big smile, and a necklace bearing an amulet in the shape of a fish. She came forward, bearing a strange expression but offering her hand. Ajira shook it uneasily, staring at Ashikarilini with the same strange expression. "Call me 'Lini."

Kark broke in, laying a hand on each of their shoulders. He looked at Ajira. "This is Ashikarilini, Ajira. She was another chosen by the Prophecy. Her fate and yours are linked by the Prophecy. You see, the Prophecy that Ashkhan Maroulis read you was not complete. There was a hidden part...and as I was the one to decode it, I am the only one to know." He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out an old scrap of parchment, similar to the one that the Ashkhan had shown her. It had the same squiggly markings. Ajira felt a little nervous as Kark began to read. _There was more?_

"_...As the sun rises, she will know_

_She will dream and it is so_

_The forest, the sea, a Telvanni home,_

_This is the destiny that's to come._

_The girl from the dreaming_

_Ashikarilini Alysa Kalee_

_Forever with a smile_

_Find her, find her, go!_

_You need her, and she needs to know_

_That Lini can help her _

_Until the end_

_The final battle_

_Is about to begin_

_She may help, and she may hurt,_

_Protect her and Ajira_

_Or be forever banished to the Dirt.1_

_But be careful, and do take heed, _

_Do not take what you do not need..."_

Lini had a knowing look in her eyes, but Ajira was more confused than ever.

Kark did his best to fill in the blanks. "This part basically says that Lini here is one Assigned to the Prophecy, but she can only help get to the Final Battle, but not to fight it. She can help you as much as she can until The End, but she may hurt you along the way, and you have to be ready for that. And, basically, if I don't protect you guys, I'll lose all my powers and have to stay human for the rest of eternity. It's the worst punishment an Immortal can receive. I don't have a choice. But you two do. I've brought you together, now the rest is up to you. Will you team up and help defeat Dakosh?"

Suddenly, the decision was made, all in an instant, accompanied by a rush of adrenaline. They were actually going to do this. There was no more thinking, no more worries in that moment. "Yeah!" Ajira and Lini hugged each other, smiling.

"All right, then!" Kark looked just as happy. "Your journey has now begun. I'll administer the rites later today. For now, let's rest."

"What rites?"

"You'll find out." Kark seemed to be in an extremely good mood, rather than his usual solemn self.

One question was still bugging Ajira, though. "Why did you keep that extra part of the Prophecy?"

"It made it shorter!" Kark laughed. "No, really. I kept it because the Ashlanders' job was to locate the girl assigned to the Prophecy--that's you--and well, I couldn't make it _too_ easy for them. That wouldn't have been any fun!" He laughed again.

Ajira stared at him strangely. "What?" yelled Kark, still chuckling. "Angels can have fun too!"

It was all so strange, Kark laughing. Even a little stupid.

With that, all Ajira and Lini could do was laugh a loud, carefree laugh. It felt so good to laugh again; Ajira had almost forgotten. The last few days had been so magical, yet so fast-paced and so stressful. And now here they stood, in the abandoned weapon shop of a dead man, laughing like a bunch of lifelong friends. That's what it felt like. Just a couple of friends, just hanging out and having a good time. If only there was none of the tension of the Prophecy, or Kark being an angel, or her "destiny"...

But none of that could change now. The Prophecy had been Accepted, and Ajira and Lini's journey was just beginning.

1 This is the worst punishment an Immortal can be given. In this severe form of punishment, the angel or other Immortal loses all of their powers, and is forever bound to the land, never to ascend into the heavens again.


	21. The House of Azhbar

The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 21: The House of Azhbar

Kark grew silent again. "What?" asked Lini, staring at Kark's solemn face.

"Oh, nothing, just thinking." He smiled a little fakely at them. "Lets pick you girls out a weapon shall we? No charge." He chuckled.

Ajira went over to the shelf with the glass weapons. They had always been her favorite. She fingered a dagger made of deep green glass. The handle was engraved in Daedric writing, probably some sort of invocation. It felt mysteriously light in her hands. The green knife glinted in the pale light of the shop, giving off an almost magical luster. "Kark?" She looked up.

"Yes?"

"Is this weapon...magical?" She fingered the engraved handle carefully and slowly, as if in a trance.

He walked over to get a better look at it. He took it gently from her, being careful not to cut himself on the sharpened glass blade. He stared at the small dagger with as much awe as Ajira had. When he noticed the engraving on the handle, he reached out of his pocket and pulled a shard of clear glass. Holding it over the tiny engraving to magnify it, his lips moved silently, mouthing in Ancient Daedric the invocation on the handle. "

The power of the sword lies within the beholder

The strength of the beholder lies within the soul

The purity of the soul lies in Azura's hands

Please her, and all else follows.

"_The power of the sword lies within the beholder. The strength of the beholder lies within the soul. The purity of the soul lies in Azura's hands. Please her, and all else follows." _Kark murmured the words in a faint whisper.

"What does it say?" asked Ajira, tugging on his sleeve impatiently.

"This dagger has been blessed by Azura. Use it wisely." Kark placed the dagger reverently back in Ajira's hands.

Ajira felt so powerful just then, holding a dagger blessed by Azura. She was one of the highest deities, and she felt her presence wash over her as she gripped the dagger's pewter handle. She gave the dagger a few practice swings, feeling as though it were guiding her, not the other way around.

Lini stared at it admiringly. "It's beautiful," she sighed, watching the dagger sparkle and glow. "I can't believe it was blessed by Azura!" She smiled with a hint of jealousy toward Ajira.

"You'll need a weapon too." Kark patted her on the back. "Go find something, anything you want." Lini went off into the shop to begin her search.

It took Lini a bit longer to find a good weapon, because she had not had time previously to look around the shop like Ajira had. She went through the entire shop, carefully inspecting each type of weapon she saw. She tested a few for grip and accuracy on a practice dummy, only to put them back, complaining they were too light, too heavy, or too flimsy. It was getting quite humorous, as she always had some excuse to keep looking.

After two long drawn-out hours of meticulous searching, Lini was ready. Ajira had drifted asleep against the wall and even Kark was getting bored. The weapon she finally chose was a set of elaborate ebony throwing stars. They shone in the light, but not with the same magical luster as Ajira's dagger. Flowing gold designs were etched over the shiny black surface.

"Are you sure this is what you want? These stars have been made in the deepest parts of Red Mountain." Kark looked carefully at her decision.

"Yes, please." Lini took them from him politely. "I pride myself on my marksman skills."

"A marksman, eh? Where'd you learn that at?"

"I taught myself."

"How'd you manage? Marksman skills are quite hard to learn." Kark was obviously shocked that Lini had managed to train herself.

"Oh, you know, just scrounging around all the old bookshops in the Manor District of Ald-Ruhn." She seemed so casual saying this, like it was nothing.

"Did you live there?" While Kark was merely making conversation until Ajira woke, he couldn't help but be a little interested in the girl's story. He wanted to know all he could about her before he let her travel with him and Ajira. She could be another imposter, a spy for Dakosh, sent to foil their plans. As Kark listened to Lini's story, he wondered why he had never doubted Ajira. She was..._different._ No, he had never doubted her. But why? Kark couldn't quite discern why, but there was something in Ajira that just wasn't there in Ashikarilini. Something that made him want to trust her. Something special.

As it turned out, Lini had never properly lived in the Manor District, or anywhere in Ald-Ruhn for that matter. She was orphaned at the age of 6 and since then had depended on her wits and her thieving skills for survival. Lini drifted among all the bustle of Ald-Ruhn, quietly pocketing a shirt or a loaf of bread here and there. No one would suspect such a young Khajiit, so she had never been caught. In fact, the books that she had learned marksmanship from had been stolen, along with the few other possessions she owned.

"That's pretty amazing." Kark had to admit, nodding at Lini. He glanced over at Ajira for a moment. She appeared to be stirring.

Ajira's eyelids fluttered open, and she gave a small sleepy moan. "What'd...I...miss?" She blinked several times to clear her eyes. Standing up, she stretched and yawned, then looked inquisitively at Kark and Lini.

"Look at this!" Lini ran over to show Ajira her throwing stars.

Ajira was still half-asleep, but the sight of the glistening stars fully woke her. "I love them!" gushed Ajira, gazing at their perfectly chiseled points. "And you taught yourself!"

"Yep!" Lini took them back and pocketed them. She turned. "Well, I'm ready to go." She smiled at Kark.

"Not yet you're not. I have to officially initiate you into the Prophecy."

"What?" asked Lini with a confused face. Ajira looked the same.

"Pocket your weapons and come with me." Kark said in low, almost menacing tones.

They did as they were told and followed Kark out into the busy streets of Taryngoth. No one seemed to notice them; no one seemed to realize that the shopkeeper (or the shopkeeper's imposter) was dead. They drifted among the crowd silently, having to make huge strides to keep up with Kark's long legs.

"Where are we going?" yelled Ajira through the noise of the busy streets. She was panting from trying to keep up. Lini was not far behind her, panting as well.

"Are we almost there?" she moaned, coughing. "We've been walking for ages!"

"We're almost there!" called Kark from far in front of them. "Just hang on!"

After about fifteen more minutes of walking, Ajira and Lini were utterly exhausted. Kark looked at them and smiled. "Note to self: Train Ajira and Lini in Athletics!" He started to laugh. "Come on, it's just around the corner."

And indeed it was. A tall, ominous-looking building loomed before them, a dirty sign on the door reading House of Azhbar.1 The house was several stories, possibly five, but it was in a state of great disrepair. The whole house looked ready to collapse at any given moment.

"Why...are we here?" asked Ajira nervously, looking around.

Kark ushered them on, speaking in low tones. "This is the House of Azhbar. Inside you will be initiated into the Prophecy, and I will of course administer all the proper rituals. I've been through this many times, you see. Somehow, I am always the angel that has to help with all the Prophecy stuff. So whenever one is made, it is my job to find the subjects and initiate them."

"But why here, in this creaky old house?"

"Looks can be deceiving." Kark smirked. "Azhbar was a very famous prophet and mage, and this is his old house. It is said the house is still endowed with magical qualities, so naturally it makes it a great place for the Rites."

"Have all the Prophecies been Initiated here?" asked Lini.

"Almost all. All the ones I've been in charge of anyway."

There were a few moments of silence. Ajira was deep in thought. She was sure she had read about Azhbar somewhere...

"Kark!" called Ajira. "I remember reading about Azhbar!"

"Did you now? Then what did he do?"

"He made great strides in the fields of Alteration and Conjuration, and was a highly respected healer of the time. Among other things, he invented the art of Soul-Trapping, and also developed many alchemical formularies that the alchemists still use to this day. Azhbar was one of the most talented Wise Men of all time; he had over eight Prophecies, and all of them were fulfilled. He was very kind to all, and everyone loved him. That's why it was so sad when he fell victim to an unfortunate vampire attack. Dagoth Kous, Dagoth Almix, and Dagoth Vuyhe all ambushed him while he was sleeping. Some say a greater force sent the vampires to do their biddings, and others say the vampires were mad at Azhbar for banishing many of their relatives. No one knows, but everyone remembers him for all the great things he did."

Kark was speechless. "Wow..." he stammered, "You really know your stuff."

"Thanks." Ajira smiled. "You forget my mom is a mage. I read so many of her old books...that was about the only thing to do on rainy days. I'd sit inside all day and read story after story about the Great Mages. Azhbar was actually one of my favorites." Ajira sighed nostalgically.

"Then I suppose you know how the Rites go?"

"No, actually. I've never read about any Rites." She looked confused. "How do they go?"

"You're about to find out. Now you and Lini go sit over there--" he pointed to an old dusty couch, "--and I'll go prepare."

He left the room, heading down a long ominous-looking corridor. Ajira and Lini did as they were told and carefully sat down on the worn sofa. It creaked miserably with both of their weight on it. They tried not to move too much; they were afraid that it would collapse.

"I'm scared," whispered Lini, leaning over on Ajira. "What's going to happen to us?"

"I don't know," came Ajira's shaky reply. She was just as scared as Lini was. "Stay strong: _Mesa adasi._" She spoke in the ancient Khajiit tongue. Many thought it had been lost years ago, but it lived on the minds of the Khajiit folk. Many had been scared or intimidated into using Common in public; some had simply forgot. And yet it was still there, in the heart and in the mind of all living Khajiits: free or enslaved, poor or wealthy, peasant or noble. The Khajiit tongue was in them, bursting to get out.

A sharp intake of breath. Lini had never heard anyone use the Khajiit tongue, not even her family. Yet, she knew and understood exactly what it meant. Her reply came: "_Ae pera_: I will."

It was so strange, them sitting huddled together, speaking in the ancient Khajiit tongue. Sitting on a old creaky couch in the middle of an old mage's dilapidated mansion would generally be a very unusual circumstance. But circumstances had changed. Their whole lives had changed, and according to Kark, the whole world would change if they did not help.

Nearly an hour had passed. Lini was snoring peacefully, her head resting lightly on Ajira's furry shoulder. Her chest rose and fell so quietly and so calmly that it made Ajira tired just to look at her. Therefore, she decided to look around the room a bit. Anything to keep her mind off Lini's still body.

The room was very old; Ajira had expected that. A wooden plaque hung above the doorframe. It had been chewed out by termites and was nearly impossible to read, but she could make out the words "Haven", "Prophecy", and a word that looked scarily like "Death". She mouthed the words, almost without noticing, in Khajiit. "_Grae...Yierm...Nox._"

As she was looking at the strange plaque on the door, she heard the rush of magic. Spinning around suddenly, Lini's head was jarred. She began to moan sleepily. Ajira soothed her by stroking her ears calmly. But her own ears were pricked up and her muscles tense as she scoured the room. She thought she saw a strange glow...

"_Ajira Ann. Ajira Ann Swhen."_ The misty voice came from out of nowhere. Ajira gasped, hearing her name called. Her full name at that! She looked wildly around the room, yet nothing was there, and nothing had been moved. Her Khajiit senses were tingling again. There was definitely something in the room.

"Who's there?" called Ajira into the empty room, her voice cracking.

"_You know me_." A rush of cool air blew past her, although all the doors and windows were closed. A quiet female voice whispered into her ear. _"I see you have my dagger."_

At this moment, Ajira nearly cried out. She felt cold invisible fingers digging like claws into her face. _Was it really Azura?_

"_Yes, it is I, little Ajira. Do not scream, my daughter. I have come with a message." _Azura floated down before her. The face of Azura was calm and soothing, different to the pictures she had seen of her. Ajira assumed that she, like most Immortals, could shape shift. Her skin was translucent, but gleamed a pale blue. Rare jewels adorned her forehead, and her eyes gleamed red. She was dressed sparingly in a flowing white dress that hung loosely off her slender body. Azura had slightly pointed ears, and an Immortal amulet around her neck. The ivory amulet was carved with her symbol: The Daedric letter "A"2.

Azura gently smiled upon Ajira, and began to talk. "_Ajira Ann Swhen. You have been chosen by the Prophecy to rid Morrowind of Dakosh, a great burden for such a young one to bear. Are you up to the challenge?"_

"I...don't know. I'd like to think that I am, but I'm not sure I can do this."

"_Then listen to me. You were chosen by the Prophecy for a reason, and that is because the Elders truly thought that you were the best one for the job. You received my blessings when you chose my dagger. They will empower you to do whats right along your perilous journey. It will by no means be easy, but it is necessary. The fate of Morrowind rests in your paws. You have been given a gift, a privilege: the power to change the world for the better. Do not be scared, because I will always be with you, to offer guidance. You may not be able to see me, but I am always present. And still I'd like to give you another gift. Come forward, my daughter." _She spotted Ajira eyeing Lini nervously. _"Do not worry. She will sleep." _Azura spread her hands over Lini and a shower of blue sparkles rained down upon her. _"You see?" _Lini gave a small groan, and slumped over into a deep slumber.

"What did you do to her?" Ajira whispered fearfully, afraid Lini would not wake.

_"It is only a simple sleeping spell. She will wake as soon as I leave. We must hurry; the angel Kark will be back any minute to do the Rites." _She made a strange sound, something like clearing her throat. "_I want to tell you Ajira, before I leave. The task before you is a mighty one. You may never return to your homeland. You may die in this quest. But remember why you are here--you and your friend fight for the sake of the world as we know it. You cannot allow Dakosh to take over power of Morrowind. He must be defeated at all costs. Therefore, I give you my blessings..." _Ajira found herself suddenly glowing with white light. She felt so empowered. "_...and these, to help you on your journey. Above all else, Ajira, remember strength, remember bravery, remember faith, and most of all, little one, remember love." _Azura patted Ajira lovingly on the head and vanished in a tornado of blue light.

Ajira was awestruck. _Had that really happened? _She stared at the rug where Azura had stood. It was so surreal. A tiny stain remained where Azura had vanished, but it was unnoticeable against the tattered rug. A small lump was visible under the rug. She started toward it, wondering what it was.

But Lini had started to stir, and Ajira spun around watching her. Lini began to move, yawning deeply. "What'd I...miss?"

1 Azhbar is pronounced ash-BAR

2 The Daedric letter "a" is A


	22. Traitor

-1Then Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 22: The Rites

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Jacob. Thank you for being so patient with me and reading it. I'm so glad to be your friend. You'll be the one getting me published, I just know it!

Ajira turned around, looking back at what was under the rug. She slowly walked over and lifted the heavy rug. The brown moldy shag rug was dusty and dirty, and cockroaches scampered out from under it when she lifted it up. Ajira wrinkled her nose. It smelled horrible, like mold and dung. Under the rug the floor was rotten, probably a result of termites. But what else she saw was astonishing.

A brilliant golden tower shield, engraved magnificently with Azura's symbol, the Daedric letter "a", and encrusted heavily with gemstones. She tried it on for size. _What was this made of?_ Ajira wondered in awe as she slung the shield over her shoulder. It was virtually weightless. How could something so light be effective? It was as light as a feather, yet looked very strong. Only one way to test it...

"Hey. Lini!" Ajira called across the room, startling her into full awareness. She sat up abruptly, blinking her eyes. "Get your stars!"

"What?" she moaned groggily, yawning. "What the heck are you talking about?"

"Your throwing stars!" Ajira pointed. "Get them!"

"Why?"

Becoming annoyed, Ajira snapped, "Just do it, okay?"

Lini reluctantly did what she was told, mumbling indistinguishable comments under her breath as she made her way across the room and leaned over behind the sofa to pick up her ebony throwing stars. "Ok, I got 'em." she groaned. "Happy now?"

"Sure. Throw one at me."

Lini blinked her eyes twice, shook her head. She was shocked. _Is she mad!_ "What! I'm not throwing these at you!"

"I'm serious! Throw one at me!" She made an obscure gesture with her hand.

"You're crazy! I'm not hurting you!" yelled Lini. She hugged the case of stars protectively.

"I never said you were. Come on…I just want to test this thing out!" Ajira nodded at her shield. Ajira sighed. "Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not wasting my precious stars just so you can test your little shield. Ask Kark when he gets back." Lini rudely stomped back to the other side of the room, sulking.

"Come on, Lini. You're not going to hurt me, honest. You know I wouldn't tell you to attack me if I knew I was going to be hurt from it."

She sighed. "Well...unless you were on some serious skooma. I'm sorry I was rude to you." Lini started to laugh.

"Exactly," giggled Ajira. "So are we still friends?"

"Of course we are! What would make you think otherwise?"

Ajira looked at Lini, an apologetic look in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just thought..."

"...and that's your problem, right there! Take this from a friend. You think too much. Just kind of...I don't know, go with the flow or something. Put yourself on autopilot and don't be afraid to have fun once in a while. I know you're older than me, but you're not grown up yet. You're still a kid as much as I am. So lighten up and stop being so serious!"

_Wow...that little girl is a fountain of wisdom. I should listen to her more often. She _does_ make me feel better. I know what she says is true. I _am _a little too conservative. But why, why does she have to be right?_

Lini came over and gave Ajira a hug. Smiling, she added, "Well, if I'm going to try and kill you with these I might as well see what I'm up against. Can I see your shield?"

"Sure," Ajira held it out for Lini to see. She took it from her, eyes wide open.

Lini gaped and ran her fingers over the cool smooth surface. "Wait a minute..." Suddenly, Lini was stuttering, pointing with a shaking hand at her shield. "That's..."

A long moment of silence followed. She stared at Ajira with eyes full of horror, as if she had just realized what she had done. Right then and there, she threw herself down on the floor, kneeling, chanting. Her eyes were squinted shut, though Ajira thought she saw sparkling tears line her lashes. "Great Azura...Goddess, forgive me." She seemed to be praying.

Ajira was shocked by the spectacle. Lini was a servant of Azura? She was very young to be in her service. Yet here she was praising her name and apologizing ardently for insulting a Servant. Ajira was not, in fact, an official Servant of Azura, but Lini did not need to know that. All she needed to see was the shield to know that Azura had been here.

As she slowly got up, a hint of a smile showing on her face, she turned and stared open-mouthed at Ajira. Understanding had dawned upon her. "I apologize...for insulting Azura, and insulting you. Azura has spoken to me in prayer, and if she says that you are for now my master, then it is so. In the name of Azura, I am now in your service." She bowed to her.

With a awkward smile, Ajira reluctantly bowed back. It was only proper, but it felt terribly strange. _This little girl was bowing to me? I'm not superior! I don't need a servant!_

"So..." started Lini, edging closer to her. "You going to tell me how you got that or not?"

"Long story," said Ajira tiredly. "Tell you later. Now just throw one at me!"

"You'll tell me what happened?"

"Everything."

Lini picked up a throwing star, getting a good grip on it. She stared down it straight at Ajira's shield. She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, brought her arm back, and slung the star across the room.

Ajira saw the star flying toward her and tried not to flinch. It was a little scary seeing that star come flying toward her, even if she was protected by a shield. She was going to need a lot of practice before she ever went into battle. There was still so much to learn, and time was running out. The star struck the shield hard with a loud metallic _clang!_ that reverberated through the whole room. The impact sent vibrations through her arm to her whole body. She watched, mouth hanging wide open, as it shattered and fell to the floor.

Lini was speechless. She stumbled over, trying helplessly to pick up the broken fragments. It was no use. The shield had completely demolished her top-of-the-line throwing star. How could something so weightless be so effective?

Ajira took her shield off and looked at it, sure that there would be a huge scratch where the star had struck. Her mouth continued to hang open as she inspected her shield with wide eyes. It was still flawless! All across the luminous surface, not one dent, not one single blemish appeared. It was strong enough not only to withstand such an attack, to completely destroy an ebony throwing star! Truly this shield was made by Azura.

All this special attention she was getting was a bit overwhelming. She had an angel, an entire Ashlander tribe, and Azura herself behind her now. Not to mention Lini and her parents (if they even were still alive). She wondered for the first time in a while why she had been brought to a parallel universe just to buy a weapon. Was it really that simple? Surely she could've done the same thing in Morrowind; there was no need to travel to another world. And the Prophecy, couldn't the "rites" have been done at any old house in Morrowind? She wondered feverishly what made this "House of Azhbar" so special. Sure, he was a celebrated mage, but did that really make all the difference? Did the Rites _have _to be performed here? Ajira sensed there was more than met the eye here in "Taryngoth". Kark hadn't brought them here for no reason. There was something he wasn't telling them...

"I'm baaaaack!" yelled Kark, walking down the hall behind them. His arms were full of paper bags. He had a sort of silly grin on his face. He stumbled over the upturned rug, the bags flying from his hands and scattering all over the floor. There was the sound of breaking glass, a clang of metal, and the sloshing sound of liquid as the contents spilled.

Kark laughed nervously. "Eh...my bad." He bent down to pick up the packages. "Ah, dammit," he muttered under his breath. "The goblets are broken." He sighed. "No matter." He glanced around anxiously and waved one of his paws over the broken goblets quickly. The broken shards of glass suddenly came to life and started reassembling themselves. Pieces of glass whizzed through the air above him, so fast they were hard to follow. With one reverberant _ding!_ the goblets were reassembled and settled themselves quietly on the floor.

"Kajira and Meeni, right?" he asked, pointing at the two girls.

"What are you talking about?" said Ajira softly, looking at him with a funny gaze. _How could he forget our names?_

"That's your names, aren't they?"

"My name is Ajira," she said indignantly. She pointed a finger at Lini. "And she's Lini, of course. How could you forget our names, Kark?"

_Kark...right. _"Oh...you know, just my trip was exhausting and I, uh, my mind got a little scrambled, that's all. Just playing, you know." He struck out at her and missed. Ajira and Lini nearly screamed. They were huddled together trembling, knowing that one deadly swipe from his paws would mean certain death. "Stop asking stupid questions!"

_Wasn't Kark the one who despised violence? Why was he doing this? It's like he's a whole different person since he went back there..._

"Sorry," whispered Ajira, shocked. She'd never known Kark to speak like that. _What had him so wound up? _

Lini shuffled her feet, staring at the floor. "When are we going to do the Rites?" she mumbled cautiously.

_The Rites, the Rites...oh yeah. _"Yes, of course. Uh, here," he pointed at a long rectangular table sitting against the wall of the main room. The table (even though it was just a table, after all), had a menacing aura about it. Ajira felt like some kind of sinister ritual had been performed on the creaky black table many years ago.

Kark walked over to the table, an unreadable grin on his face. He placed three goblets on the table in a V-shaped formation and put a jug of some foul-smelling liquid a little to the left of them. He drew a ceremonial knife as if out of nowhere and placed it carefully inside the "V" of goblets. Digging through his bags some more, he produced seven tea lights in the colors of purple and black. As he placed them in a horseshoe shape around the whole set-up, his fingertips began to glow with black flame, a flame unlike any Ajira or Lini had ever seen before. Fire, and especially magical fire, could be many colors but it could definitely not be _black_. It crackled and sizzled at his fingertips, sending shock waves through Ajira's Khajiit senses. He lit the candles with them, unfazed at his black flames. They flickered and danced on the candlewicks, but gave off no light. This was not normal.

He suddenly seemed to snap out of it, a guilty expression plastered all over his face. "Excuse me, ladies," he said suavely, causing them to giggle. "I have to go get something right quick before we begin. You can wait a little longer, right?" He didn't wait for them to answer. "Of course you can, you can wait as long as you need to. Be right back!" Without a word, he raced down the hall.

Kark smiled evilly, rubbing the Mark on his arm. _Wait till Dakosh hears about this..._


	23. Karkal

-1The Legend of Ajira

By Madame Ergoth

Chapter 23: Karkal

Kark whooshed in to a cold underground dungeon. Soggy moss grew on the walls and torches hung on the wall in regular intervals. The dungeon smelled of rats and defecation. Shallow puddles of water collected on the cold concrete floor. A long hall lie ahead of Kark, only illuminated by occasional torches for as far as he could see. Looking nervously around, Kark took a few bold steps forward. A family of spiders scattered as he drew near them, scurrying up the walls and onto their webs. Suddenly a deep booming voice echoed throughout the dungeon. _SO...MY SERVANT HAS RETURNED..._

Kark heard this and didn't flinch. He wasn't scared.

_COME FORWARD..._

Taking a deep breath, Kark advanced down the long creepy-looking hall. He thought he could hear someone screaming as he passed door after barred door. And a horrible scream it was: a scream of torture -- pain -- death. He also thought he could hear some old rusty chains moving as he passed another door. _I'm going crazy,_ Kark reassured himself. _I'm imagining things._

_STOP._

Kark obediently listened to the omniscient voice and stopped short, breath coming in gasps now, having to lean on the wall for support. He wasn't at all tired; he hadn't walked a very long way at all. _It's this dungeon. It's messing with my mind._

_SPEAK YOUR NAME, SERVANT._

"Karkal Novak Lazarath." He grinned evilly, revealing the Mark on his forearm.

_WELCOME._

A giant iron door began to open, moaning and creaking as stale air rushed out and attacked his nostrils. Dust and dirt rained down from the ceiling as a result of the heavy vibrations from the door. After a long painful pause, the door was fully open, but nothing was to be seen but cold black darkness. Karkal could see his breath now; it was growing chillier and it was becoming harder to breathe.

_ENTER, KARKAL NOVAK LAZARATH. I'VE BEEN MEANING TO SPEAK WITH YOU._

Karkal held his head high and bravely stepped into the darkness. A slow moaning creak closed the doors behind him.

Karkal walked blindly through the darkness. He thought he could see a light, but it was very far away. How far he couldn't tell; this dungeon had messed with his perception. The stone floor was rough, uneven, and slippery. Karkal nearly lost his footing several times. He grabbed a torch from the wall. He swung it around desperately, trying to see where he was going. His efforts proved to be fruitless. This was just a long, frozen hall. Karkal replaced the torch into its holder and decided to just keep going toward that hint of a light he thought he could see so far off in the distance.

With nothing to look at except the tiny light in the distance, Karkal quickly lost track of the time. He wasn't even sure he was moving. His only reference point, the light, wasn't getting any bigger. His legs grew tired and stiff. It seemed like he had been walking for hours. Sweat dripped from his forehead though it was frigid in the dungeon. His eyes were tired and burning from having looked at constant nothingness. He had to stop to rest. Soon. Karkal walked for probably ten more minutes (it was hard to tell) then sat down carefully on the cold murky floor. The half-frozen puddles soaked quickly through his clothes and made him miserable. He didn't care; he had to rest. This hall was longer than he thought. Trying to count on his fingers, he tried to calculate how long he had been walking. He scratched his head, sighed, racked his brains for how many steps he'd taken or how many torches he'd passed -- anything to give him the time. He guessed several hours. But was it hours? Days? _Weeks?_ All he could remember was walking, walking, and walking..._Wait a minute. Why _was _he walking?_

The light off in the distance shimmered and flickered, as if calling him to it. _Oh yeah... _Taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat from his forehead, he painfully got up and leaned against the wall for a moment. It was now that Karkal wished he had kept the torch he had found back in the tunnel. There were no more as far as he could see. Only complete darkness. He could try to go back and find one, but that would mean losing time and energy. He had to speak with Dakosh. Besides, Ajira and Lini were still waiting for him.

_What fools,_ he thought with a little chuckle. _They thought _I _was Kark. My filthy angel brother Kark. I will never be like him. Mom always liked him best, the little goody-goody. Now that my stupid brother's out of the way, I can lead Ajira and Lini right into Dakosh's hands and they won't suspect a thing. Lini is too young, and Ajira is too blindly in love with my stupid brother. She trusts him. I can make her do _anything. _When He finds out, he will be so proud of me. I will be honored as a hero!_

Grinning, Karkal trudged on, running his paw across the wall to ensure he was going in the right direction. His breathing was still labored, but he sensed his heart rate had slowed some. The light at the end of the tunnel seemed within reach now; it was growing larger all the time. _I must be getting close. _

He stopped, feeling the room grow suddenly many degrees warmer. It was as if he had walked out of a freezer into the rain forest. It was still deathly humid. Karkal took a few steps back into the icy chill. _Why the sudden change of temperature?_

_KARKAL NOVAK LAZARATH...COME FORWARD. WE MUST SPEAK. _

Suddenly the tiny light was growing larger and larger at an alarming rate. Karkal stopped moving. It was coming toward _him!_ The brilliant white light grew closer and closer, blinding him. Before he knew it he was spinning through blank white space. His eyes were closed but the light shone just as brightly through them. Karkal feared he would go blind. There was nothingness, total nothingness...his eyes were going to burn out of the sockets! He was falling, falling...!

With a sickening bone-crunching thud, Karkal hit the stone floor hard. Splintered of pain shot through his body. Dazed from the fall, he struggled to get up. This place was brighter, but not by much. Feeling the sweltering heat upon him once again, he felt a desperate desire to shed his clothes in favor of becoming cooler. He resisted the urge. No good could come from Karkal presenting himself naked.

Besides, Dakosh would strike him down in an instant. For some strange reason that he was obviously not permitted to know, Dakosh favored wearing lots and lots of layers of heavy clothes. He wore fur coats, sweaters, all of it. Sweat pouring down his forehead, Karkal was truly amazed that Dakosh did not have a heat stroke or die. _It had to be over 100 degrees! _Through the dim illumination of the dungeon and his blurred vision, he could just barely make out some sort of glowing throne, about 100 feet away from him, as far as he could tell. Staggering forward in slow, clumsy steps, Karkal weakly walked toward the throne. Suddenly out of the shadows rose his master: Dakosh.

_AH...YOU HAVE FINALLY ARRIVED. COME. SIT. WE MUST TALK._

The old fear engulfed Karkal once again. It was natural to be afraid of such an unfathomably evil ruler, especially when he was the one giving orders. One false move and he could kill in a instant without so much as batting an eyelash. Dakosh did what he pleased, and no one would tell them otherwise. Karkal clenched his teeth together so hard that it hurt. He was trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking that had overtook him. With a deep breath to calm himself, Karkal followed Dakosh the extra 50 feet or so toward the glowing throne. He now realized there were two thrones ahead of him; one was just not illuminated. _Hadn't Dakosh always worked alone? Who could the second throne be for? Guests? _He doubted it.

Dakosh waved a bony hand toward the second throne. _SIT._ Karkal reluctantly sat down on the hard wooden throne. It felt so awkward, like he knew he wasn't supposed to be there. _HOW DOES IT FEEL?_

"How does what feel?" asked Karkal, confused.

_HOW DOES IT FEEL TO SIT ON THE THRONE OF ETERNITY? COMPLETE YOUR MISSION, AND THAT THRONE MAY VERY WELL BE YOURS._

Karkal gaped. _A promotion?_

_THAT'S RIGHT. A PROMOTION. YOU WILL BE POWERFUL, YOU WILL BE RICH, AND YOU WILL BE MY SECOND-IN-COMMAND. THE WORLD WILL BE YOUR MASTER. _He paused. _ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS...BRING ME THE ONE WHO SEEKS TO DEFEAT ME. SURELY THAT IS NOT SO HARD._

_Easy for you to say. _"Yes, your Highness. I have news, I-I have information."

_DO TELL. I MAY BE ABLE TO USE THIS "INFORMATION"._

Karkal took another deep breath and began speaking. "The one you seek is named Ajira Ann Swhen. Her companion is Ashikarilini Alysa Kalee. Their mentor is Kark Allen Lazarath."

The mention of the name Lazarath caught his attention. _YOUR BROTHER?_ He asked incredulously.

"Yes, sir," added Karkal, bubbling hate rising within him again. "My filthy angel brother."

_I DID NOT KNOW THIS. HOW DO YOU PLAN TO GET TO THIS "AJIRA" GIRL WITH YOUR GOODY-GOODY BROTHER IN THE WAY?_

Beaming, Karkal replied, "Already taken care of, sir."

_WHAT DO YOU MEAN, "ALREADY TAKEN CARE OF"? SURELY YOU DIDN'T..._

"No, your Highness. He is not injured. I know of the repercussions that would have upon us. You think I would risk it? No, I chose a much smarter solution."

_OUT WITH IT, THEN! I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!_

Karkal cringed. "Yes, sir," he whimpered. "Kark is imprisoned in an onyx amulet in the world of Taryngoth. The amulet is currently for sale in a place called _Firelad's Potions. _Once the amulet is purchased, it will be carried far away, never to be seen again." He paused for effect. "Brilliant, isn't it?"

One look at Dakosh's mangled face told him he had done something wrong.

Dakosh, struggling to keep his voice calm, cried, _YOU IMPRISONED A HIGH ANGEL IN A SILLY AMULET? FOR SALE? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?_

Karkal was silent.

_THOSE GIRLS CAN JUST WALK RIGHT OVER TO THE LITTLE SHOP AND BUY HIM RIGHT BACK! _

"But they won't be able to free him! It's very obscure magic, only known to few."

_AND YOU THINK THIS FIRELAD CHARACTER HAS NO IDEA HOW HIS AMULETS ARE MADE?_

"He can't possibly know. Besides, I wiped his memory. He doesn't know a thing."

_IF THIS AJIRA IS TRULY THE CHOSEN ONE, THEN THERE IS NO DOUBT THAT SHE WILL FIND A WAY TO FREE HIM, AND THEN ALL WILL BE LOST! YOU WILL RETURN IMMEDIATELY TO TARYNGOTH AND MAKE SURE THAT AJIRA AND HER FRIEND _NEVER_ FIND THAT AMULET! STRING THEM ALONG AS YOU WILL TO GAIN THEIR TRUST, THEN BRING THEM TO ME. SUCCEED AND I WILL NOT HAVE TO PUNISH YOU. BE GONE. YOU DISAPPOINT ME._

A lump formed in Karkal's throat. _Punishment? _That didn't sound pleasant. He did not want to find out what Dakosh's idea of punishment was. With a bow and a grimace, Karkal teleported out of the dungeon back to Taryngoth. He began walking toward the House of Azhbar exhaustedly. _I have a lot of work to do..._


End file.
